The Collinsport Chronicles XV: The deepsix
by Maryland Rose
Summary: Never cross an ambitious politician. Barnabas learns why the hard way.
1. Chapter 1

The Leviathan menace is over. Roxanne Drew is dead. Vicky and Phillip have recovered from their ordeals. Everything seems fine in Collinsport.

But fine does not last long in Collinsport.

And in Washington Cyrus Vance has resigned as Secretary of State. Edmund Muskie has been chosen as his succesor. This means that his Senatorial seat is open, and Maggie eyes it. She is not going to be patient with any misstep by Barnabas, who driven by guilt over Roxanne, is likely to do something unwise.

* * *

THE DEEP-SIX

Chapter 1

Reverend Trask looked sympathetically at Sebastian Shaw, huddled alone in his seat. He was overcome with pain, yet he still insisted in saying his farewell to the woman he loved. Trask wondered if Sebastian would be able to.

Sebastian got up, biting his lips. He would say it, no matter what it cost him.

"I don't remember the first time I met Roxie." he began. "I never could. I was just too doped up to notice." he lifted his head and looked at them. "When I met her, I was a junkie, doomed to early death by either hepatitis or overdose. I wasn't worth the time of day. Yet she looked at me and thought that I could be helped and that I could be worth the effort. She picked me up. She helped me to my feet. And all the while she had her own wounds, which refused to heal."

He looked again at the assembled people. Tammy, Joe, Phillip, Julia... they had known the worst about Roxie... They should know the other, too.

"She and I grew close. We needed each other. We loved each other. We wanted it to last forever, and it could have..."

His voice broke. The memories of Roxie talking to him, resting in his arms flooded him.

"She didn't want to. She was afraid that something wrong would happen afterwards. She did not know what it could be, only that she feared it...she had many gaps in her memory when I met her, and she knew that while she did not fully know who she was, it was not safe for us to do that... We used to make plans, both of us, but we could not bring them about."

"Maybe you remember the blackmail bit." his voice became stronger. "I am not proud of it, but little harm came of it. And what harm was doe, we were the ones who suffered the most. That was the worst thing that I knew her to do."

"She used to tell me o what she remembered. What she could remember. From that I know that she was a brave and generous woman. If some of the things she did were known, they would put her face in a postage stamp, at least."

"That was my Roxie. The one I knew and loved."

"There was another Roxie. The one buried within her memories. The one who had once made a bad choice and could not be free of it."

"She paid for it. She would never stop paying. And then her memory came back to her and she knew what she was and what she must do."

"She did not want to. But she had no choice. Some of it was good and she did it... But there were other demands made of her. She learned that she had no future. She learned that our dreams would come to nothing. She knew that she would have to hurt me, force on me the same bad choice that had been forced on her."

"She fought it. She tried to spare me. In her distress she did... she did something she should have never done. But she was too hurt to know better... She should have sent me away, but could not."

"So she did what she did. She tried to buy time. She tried to buy my freedom with that of strangers. She was wrong to do so. She knew it, but was unable to stop herself."

"And then she forced you to kill her. She did it. She wrote it down how it was her choice. She wanted you to think of her as a mad dog to be gunned down for everybody's safety." Tears were now coming down Sebastian's cheeks and he made no effort to wipe them away. "she found the heart to forgive Barnabas and Valerie. She realized that they had been manipulated, too."

Angelique sobbed into her handkerchief. That forgiveness was tougher than the abuse that Roxanne had previously inflicted on her..

"I will ask you that when we bury her today, we bury all our bad memories of her, too. Remember her, if you must, as Harriet Tubman's friend. Remember her at the woman's suffrage movement. Remember the labor organizer, the Spanish volunteer. Remember her as she would wish to be remembered."

Phillip could not keep from rubbing his wrists nervously. They were still sore. Worse was the knowledge of what might have happened to him. He could have joined all the others that Roxanne had recruited and then...

Then he would have as little choice as Roxanne herself had had.

Whose fault was it? Roxanne's? Barnabas'? Angelique's? Or Roxanne's nameless masters'? He didn't know. All he knew was that he had been lucky for not having to make Roxanne's choices.

"Peace be with you, Roxanne Drew." he said, under his breath.

* * *

Quentin wondered if he could actually bluff his way out. He suspected that he couldn't. Carolyn was the one woman he could not get around to. The one who knew him better than he knew himself.

"What's the idea, asking for a divorce?" she asked icily.

"I thought it best."

:"Thinking is not your strong point, my dear."

"Come on. You and I both know that you married me for one reason only. You wanted to have children by the name of Collins. But now there won't be any children. You have been fixed" and under his breath he added, like the bitch you are.

Carolyn spread out her lower lip, mockingly. "My, my, my. You are getting brave."

"Maybe I am. I don't want to put up with more of your trash."

"Would you rather go to jail?"

"For what?" I returned all the money, didn't I?"

"What about attempted murder? Of have you forgotten your confession?"

Quentin's jaw dropped.

"Sometimes you amaze me with your dumbness, dear cousin. I wonder what good it does you to live so long since you never learn a damn thing."

Quentin sat down, defeated. "Why?' he pleaded "why not let me go? What good am I to you, now?"

"I will find a use for you, don't worry. I need a replacement for Nicholas now that the sheriff ran him out of town."

"Nicholas job?" Nominal duties were secretary. Real duties were being a whipping boy. To bear smiling all the abuse Carolyn wanted to heap on him. To bend his spine twenty times a day, saying how much he loved being kicked in the ass, and worse "Do you really think that I would want it?"

"It is that or jail."

"I'd rather go to jail?"

"And risk me doing God knows what to your portrait while you are away? And even if I didn't, think about it. Do you know all those lurid tales about homosexual rape in prisons? I regret to say that they are true. You are so pretty that you'll be servicing half the prison in no time at all."

Quentin could not answer that.

"It is your choice, dear cousin." Carolyn said.

* * *

Julia hugged herself. In spite of the warm weather she felt cold. And not properly cold... It was Roxanne Drew. Between Barnabas and her they had helped push her into desperation until she could find no other way to escape except kill herself.

That they had been manipulated by unseen forces somehow mitigated their guilt, but did not make it disappear. Nothing would.

And Barnabas was taking it even worse than herself.

Something bridled in her. Something that would not allow to fully pursue that line of thinking. She would not think of guilt, not connected wit Barnabas. There were words that she would never say and would never allow him to speak in her presence.

That was the way it had to be.

* * *

It was hard to understand what had happened to her, Vicky thought. Hard to believe that this was 1980. Carolyn was a grown woman. So was Maggie. The world had not waited for her... it kept changing ruthlessly, expecting her to accommodate herself to it.

Hard to believe that the worst part was over. She wasn't a prisoner in the bottle anymore There were no more bottles. The Ring had been destroyed...

Difficult to understand, too that Peter had been lost to her from the start. As Burke had been. They didn't fit with the Leviathan's plans so they were disposed of.

And stranger still was this woman telling her that she was Roger Collins' illegitimate daughter by a chambermaid.

"It matters so little now." she said, more to herself than to Megan. "there was a time when I cared about it, but now..."

"You should care. You could lay claim to some money. Of course, it won't be easy of Carolyn wants to fight you, but I can convince her to settle out of court.

"I don't care about money."

"You always need money. Specially now that you are getting discharged. Take it from me. Tragedy comes after you get your bills paid. It makes a difference whether you have a roof over head while you are being terribly miserable, or whether on top of that, you are outside in the cold rain."

Vicky shook her head.

"And you should consider seriously Barnabas' offer to stay at his place."

"I don't want to... to be a bother to him."

"Bother? He'd love to. He's dying to have someone he can fuss over. If you let someone else mother you, he may be offended."

"I...I don't know."

Megan smiled tolerantly. It was her opinion that if you didn't learn to suffer fools gladly, you were headed for a nervous breakdown.

"Is it because of what he is?" she asked.

"In part, yes." Vicky admitted.

"Phillip had the same misgivings at first. but you ask him now..."

"...I am not sure." Vicky gulped "I...I still remember how it was in 68... wasn't he the tone who kidnapped Maggie that time?"

"Yes. He was. But you'd better not repeat it to anyone, unless you want to get in trouble with Maggie."

"With Maggie?"

"Didn't you know yet? She is now Congresswoman Evans of Maine. She needs to have that old story discussed as much as she needs an extra hole in her head. She made me remove all records of her having ever been in Wyncliffe. If you know what's good for you, you will forget it."

Vicky's eyes widened... to find herself threatened by Maggie, of all people..

"It is the way things are, kiddo. She's got now this assistant in charge of dirty tricks and I am not very sure how far is Sabrina willing to go in her job. You better not find out."

"What could she do?"

"She's already killed once. I grant you that Kira needed killing, but Sabrina might try to do you in, too."

Vicky gulped.

"Anyway, since we are talking about Barnabas, I don't think you should worry about him going back to that. Not unless he's locked up in complete sensory deprivation until his brain turns into tapioca. His head is now in working order and he won't try any crazy stunts. And if he does, tell me and I'll kick some sense into him."

...It seemed so clear, so reasonable, the way Megan said it. Yet still she doubted. Should she really go live with Barnabas, considering what had happened between them? What could have happened if Jeff Clark had not shown on the road?

...Yet where else could she go?

* * *

"I wish Vance had given us more time." Maggie grumbled.

Sabrina chuckled "I can't believe you. You could hardly wait until Muskie left his seat to you could take a stab at it. You always wanted to run for it."

"The timing is wrong."

"Anyway, you cannot run for it this election. And that seat won't be contested, either, as I understand."

"I wish I could have had more warning."

"You'll have plenty of time. Get reelected first, then think about positioning yourself for the Senate."

"Yes. I will... Think of it. the first woman senator came form Maine. I can be the next woman senator from Maine, but unlike Margaret Chase Smith I will not inherit the seat from my husband."

And after the Senate what? A cabinet post? The chance to be the first woman President.?"

"One thing" she told Sabrina "keep an eye on Barnabas. I don't want him screwing up the works."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Do you have any idea who these masters Roxanne spoke about were?" Julia asked Megan.

"Some, not specifically. But I know the type. They are like the Leviathan, but with a different objective. Up to now they are kindly disposed towards mankind. For how long..." Megan shrugged significantly.

"And Roxanne did their dirty work."

"Yes. And it got to be too much for her. As I said, I know their type. You can find them in human intelligence services, not only in inhuman time-hopping races."

"Human intelligence services?"

"The CIA, KGB..."

"You mean the CIA...?"

"If they found out about Barnabas they would put the screws on him to make him work for them. On the other hand, they might have found out in 67 and decided he was too erratic for their taste. That's the only true defense against them. Creative incompetence, or pretending to be so stupid as not to be able to cross the street without help... Roxanne turned to drugs, and that was good enough for a while. But they did not let her go fully. They waited until she got cleaned up, and then came back for her." she sighed. "Roxanne was what I or Barnabas could be if the CIA or the KGB got their hooks on us." her voice dropped. "I had to kill her to save Phillip and the others. But I did not enjoy doing it... Still, what she did to them. Not infecting them, but sending them over to be recruited before they knew what was happening to them. As Tammy said, it was slave trading."

"Still it bothers you to have become judge, jury, and executioner."

"Yes. It does. I know that it had to be done. I know that I could not shirk it. But that doesn't make it any easier."

* * *

The girl looked frail as she stood by the road, trying to thumb a ride... she looked so alone, so vulnerable.

She shouldn't be doing that, Barnabas thought as he flew overhead.

He came down, changing shape by the time he reached the ground.

"Oh, it is you." she said, with a giggle "for a moment you scared me."

"Miss Fister" he said.

"Call me Barbara. Or Barb." she said, smiling.

"You shouldn't be thumbing rides" Barnabas said. "it is dangerous."

"Nothing happened to me" she said, defiantly.

"Not yet. I wouldn't push my luck if I was you."

"And how else am I going to get back to town from work?"

"The bus."

"There are no more buses at this hour."

"What you mean there aren't?"

"At nine thirty comes the last bus to pick up the shoppers. The help, well, they come back the best way they can."

"You mean that the shopping center allows its employees to get back to town this way?"

"Yes."

"They actually encourage people to get rides?"

"How we get there and back is no business of theirs."

Barnabas shook his head. "George Brant spends hours getting the news about the dangers of hitchhiking, but this... Look Barb, today I'll escort you home. I am sorry I can't offer you a ride. And you are quitting your job."

"I need the money."

Indeed, she did. And he knew it well.

"All right. I have a car. I don't uses it much. You can use it for the summer and offer rides to other girls. As for myself, I'll see what I can do about that bus service."

* * *

Quentin brought a bottle with him. This wing was deserted. A good place to get filthy drunk without Carolyn seeing him. He understood now why Nicholas could not control his drinking. That was the only way that he could live with Carolyn.

He passed the portrait gallery on his way up. He heard laughter as he passed Carl's portrait. He turned without surprise. Carl was there, laughing at him. And also Jenny and Magda..

"Leave me alone!" he shouted at them "haven't you had enough?"

They tittered and were gone. Quentin could not even feel relief. They would come back.

He had changed, hadn't he? Why did they keep at it?'

Had he changed really? Had he forgotten Louella?"

"That wasn't his fault. If Carolyn had not forced him into marriage it would have been different...

So he had embezzled... He had meant to put it back. And he had...

Yes, he had tried to kill Carolyn, but she asked for it...

"The same way I asked for it?" Jenny appeared again, laughing, then disappeared before he could answer.

"Same as I asked for it?" Carl asked, but he did not disappear. He stayed, facing him with cold, mocking eyes.

"Leave me be. If you want revenge, go after Barnabas. He's the one who did it."

"With your help. Anyway, I have plans for him. A very funny joke, one of my best."

Carl vanished into his portrait. For a second the portrait's eyes shone maliciously, then that was gone.

Quentin was left alone with the bottle.

He took a gulp from it as he went further into the empty rooms, trying to forget those accusing, mocking faces. The booze would allow him to forget them. It would allow him to forget Carolyn...

He sat down on the floor, took another drink. In the old times he would have used a glass. Now it was just straight from the bottle...

Then the room next to him changed.

Suddenly, it was furnished, even if the furniture was old... and there were people inside.

The Parallel Time room, of course.

He stared into it.

And he saw the man with his face. And Roxanne Drew who had been buried a few days ago...

"Why do you keep coming here?" there was irritation on the other Quentin's voice.

"I keep thinking... he vanished here. I wonder if he made it back to where he came from. He and Julia. I wonder if they made it back safely."

"You just can't help thinking about him. Even after all these years. Even after what we two have together."

"He was kind of special " Roxanne touched her face, to the scars on her cheeks "well, he is gone. And even if he wasn't, he would not want me with these scars..." she shrugged." at least you and Edmund don't care."

They went out of the door to wherever they had come from and Quentin was left looking at the room with hungry eyes.

In Parallel Time Quentin was the Master of Collinwood. He had all the women he could want. Not only his wife, Maggie, but Barnabas' old love, Roxanne.

And in Parallel Time Carolyn was dead...

Why couldn't he be in Parallel Time instead of there?"

But he could go there, if he used the room...

And once there, he would kill that Quentin and take his place. He would be the Master of Collinwood at last.

There was a whole world out there, waiting for him.

* * *

Oriana closed her typewriter. The article was finished. She hoped they liked it. As for herself, she was done with it.

Now she could get a good night's sleep and empty her mind of it. Tomorrow she could start thinking what she would tackle next.

Maybe she could go back to Collinsport. Do a follow up on the previous story. Or was it too early for that? Or the Indian tribe... Barnabas still owed her that interview with the local shaman...

"Face it lady" she said to herself. "It is Barnabas that you want to see again. He was the reason why you drove Amy home that time. And that's why you only stayed one night after you found out that he was not into town."

Well, so it was. Was there a law that said she could not try?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Too late" Quentin said bitterly to himself He had come too late. Once again the room had changed without him.

Eventually he would figure out the right times for it. Eventually... in the meantime he had to put up with Carolyn for a bit longer...

And it was too much... it was just too much. To know that there was so much waiting for him out there...

* * *

"So you finally decided to become available" Barnabas grumbled at Frank

"I am busy"

"Busy, I see" Barnabas said with irony "Busy with the shopping center?"

"The shopping center, what's with it?"

"You don't know that the employees hitchhike back from work?"

"Hitchhike?"

"Are you deaf or what? Young girls, hitchhiking their way home, at night. Because there is no more bus service at that hour. The customers are all gone."

Frank thought about it. No wonder Barnabas was upset. He was too. And worse, because he knew how difficult it would be to get anything done about it.

"Well, what do you plan to do about it?" Barnabas insisted.

Frank scratched his head "I'll have to see. It is a rather difficult situation."

"You mean that OSHA can't do a thing about it?"

"I'll have to look it up" Frank confessed "all I can tell you is that it might not be easy and that it might take quite long."

"How long?"

"Well, " Frank shrugged "but next summer it might be fixed."

"Next summer? And what about this one? These girls are hitchhiking now every night."

"That's all I can offer you. You don't have to like it. I don't like it either... Look, I'll try."

* * *

Willie and Louella were having a picnic on the beach when Elsa came their way.

"Hello! How are you doing" she sat down next to them.

"Quite well" Louella said "how about you?"

"I got new shells. Want to see them?"

"Of course, we do."

Elsa threw the shells over the blanket and began showing them off.

"Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes." Willie wasn't so keen on entertaining Elsa, but decided to grin and bear it. After all, she was a good kid. "Better get rid of this crab" he lifted it "It is starting to stink."

"But I want it!"

"Your mother will throw it out, anyway."

Elsa pouted "such a beautiful crab" then quickly changed conversation. "You two are together again?"

"What you mean, together again?"

"You two get together, get apart, the together again. Like Barnabas and Iris. For how long are you going to stay together this time?"

"A long time." Willie began to lose patience.

"I will never marry." Elsa continued "Too much trouble. I'll live alone and write books. Biology books."

Willie decided that it was a good plan. He didn't wish her to anyone.

"I was a medusa lying on the beach. A few feet from here."

"Where?" Elsa got up.

"That way" he pointed "It might still be there."

"I am going to see." Elsa got up and raced in the direction that Willie was pointing.

"Can you believe her?" Willie said as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Well, she's just a kid."

:"But everyone thinks that way." Willie frowned "I don't want people to think those things about me... about us. I don't want them making bets as to how long we are going to last."

"Who cares what people think?"

"I do..."Willie looked down "Maybe I am too sensitive. You see, twelve years ago no one called me Mr. Loomis. Just Willie. Or that oaf, Willie... I am an ex-con. I never finished high school."

"Well, that's over. You are respectable now. You made it."

"I am not so sure... I have a feeling that at any time I will be found out. That I will stop being Mr. Loomis and will go back to being Jason's pal."

"Well, you are not. Will never be again. You should not care what people think. The ones that matter know you for who you really are."

* * *

Roger wondered about Quentin. He was up to something. Something to hurt Carolyn.

It had something to do with the East Wing. He kept going back there. What could be in the East Wing to hold such attraction to him?

The Parallel Time room!

He wanted to escape into Parallel Time.

He raced downstairs to meet Carolyn.

"Do you know where Quentin is?" she looked up from her desk "I got loads of work for him to do, but he's nowhere to be seen."

"He's trying to escape you."

"He can't. He'd be picked up by the police on attempted murder charges if he tried."

"Not if he goes into Parallel Time."

"Parallel Time?" Carolyn needed only a few seconds to understand it "Yes, he would escape me there. But does the room still work?"

"Quentin seems to believe it does."

"And the Quentin there is the Master of Collinwood." Carolyn said softly "Yes, I can see how he might be tempted" she got up and tapped the top of her desk. "Will he remember to bring along his portrait? We have to stop him."

* * *

David fidgeted in his seat. Julia was reassuring, and if he followed her instructions he would never have to worry about the full moon again.

So why was he scared? Why did he have the feeling that he should be doing something else? Why the misgivings?

Could it be that running free in Chris company had changed his feelings about the curse? Sure it was better if he didn't have to worry about it at all.

Why couldn't he take Chris' way? He could go away to college and start making something of himself.

Chris' way meant no children, ever. So, he did not want children...

But two years ago he didn't want to go to college, either. Two years from now, he might want children and would never be able to have them.

But he could go on like this until he graduated from college, and then take the full cure...

Except that as soon as she graduated he would be looking for a job, and would not be too interested in what Julia had to offer.

He'd better be patient. Postpone going to college until he was cured, and then go ahead without worrying about it anymore.

Then going away to college meant being away from Barnabas, and he still wasn't sure that he could keep clean of drugs without help. He didn't want any now. But once under pressure, having to cram for exams, worrying about grades, would his willpower be enough?

No, he had to be patient and go along with Julia.

If only he could rid himself of the feeling that something was wrong.

* * *

"This is your room" Phillip showed it to Vicky "I hope that you like it."

"It...it is nice." Vicky admitted.

"If there is something you don't like tell me."

"No, it is fine."

"You don't sound very happy."

"It has nothing to do with you. Or the room. It is just that I can't forget how it was... how it was before. I can't forget how scared Willie looked, as if he knew that something terrible was going to happen."

"Those days are over for good."

"Everybody tells me that... but..."

Phillip nodded with understanding. He knew what she was going through. She had not lived through the last ten years. She did not learn how to react to Barnabas, like everybody else did. What for others was routine, for her it was strange and frightening.

"I went through the same thing after I came back." he admitted "It was worse, I didn't just fear Barnabas. I hated him."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I got to know him."

"You trust him now?"

"How could I not?"

"But with me it is different. He... he was interested in me. We were going to run away together. And he would... would have made me..."

"But it didn't happen. and it won't happen again."

"I want to believe that." Vicky sighed unhappily "I still... I don't know if it is right, me moving in here. Everybody I ask, says I should. And I can't afford to move anywhere else. Still..."

"Give it time." he added with good humored laughter. "Oriana was even less willing to come here. But she regretted having to leave."

"Oriana who?"

"Oriana Falchi F.A.L.C.H.I. A free lance journalist. She got too close to Barnabas' secret so he had to kidnap her and bargain with her until she agreed to kill the story."

"And she did?"

"He gave her a better one. As he said, she would not blow a potential "New Yorker" piece in order to get in the "National Enquirer" At firsts she was real mad at him. Not afraid like you. Just plain furious. But when she left, she was lusting after him like Carter after Poland."

* * *

"I hope this thing still works" Carolyn studied critically the mini stage that Nicholas had left behind. "and I hope I remember how he used it.

It required concentration. She strained, but was only able to produce mists and blurred outlines. But she held on. She would be able to find out where Quentin kept his portrait. And she would.

Suddenly the figures took greater definition. She was looking at the wreck that Quentin would be now had it not been for Charles Delaware Tate's gift.

"So that's the real Quentin." Carolyn smirked. "no wonder that he keeps it well hidden. Can you figure out where it is?"

"Yes." Roger said. "I know that cottage."

That cottage, now deserted was where he used to meet Becky Hascomb in passionate trysts. Becky who had given him a bastard daughter, which had been hushed up quickly by his father who did not want to ruin the chance for his son to marry Laura Murdoch... Laura and her money... Becky had died not too long after that, and the daughter had been turned over to an orphanage to be raised under the name of Winters...

Never mind... That was an old story. Becky was dead, and he had no claim on Vicky.

"Go get it." Carolyn said, then added "Not yet. Wait until he goes for it. Then tell him that the jig is up. I'll give you a gun for it. Just don't fire it. I want him in one piece."

* * *

Xavier coughed before coming into Sandy's shop.

"Mrs. Miller?" he asked

"Yes." she lifted her head. "I am here. And I am still Mrs. Miller."

"Can I talk to you?"

"Do you want to see if I am sprouting hair?" she asked sharply.

"Not at all."

"So what is it?"

"About the clothes you sell."

"You want to stop helping me to sell them? You never wanted me, after all. Barnabas rammed me down your throat. And now that I am a werewolf you can get rid of me."

"I came to ask you to expand your operation, if you can. Which I think you can, as you don't have now a family to make demands on you."

"You...you..." Sandy's jaw dropped.

"Your clothes sell well. I was stupid enough once to let personal considerations rule my business dealings. I won't make the same mistake again. You make money for me, and I won't care what else you might be."

Sandy shook her head. It was funny. What tolerance could not do, greed did.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When the room changed he would be free. Free to be the Master of Collinwood, to have all the money he wanted, to have all the women he wanted.

He would live the life he was meant to.

All the mistakes he had made in this reality would be left behind. No more wrangling for the inheritance that was rightfully his. No more mad wife or cursing sister-in-law. No more rubbing shoulders with people like Hanley. No more Barnabas. No more Carolyn.

All he had to do was take his portrait from its hiding place and take it with him. He had to take it with him. It would be too dangerous to leave it behind.

* * *

"Do you know that I am moving to California?" Kathy Resch said while Barnabas arranged her hair so that her throat was clear.

"California" Barnabas asked with mild dismay.

"I got a job offer. Do you...do you mind my going?"

"Well, I wouldn't know " Barnabas confessed "California. They are all crazy there. Hot tubs, est, Jerry Brown, what not?"

"You don't like California?"

"What can you say about a place that has given us Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and Jerry Brown?"

"You exaggerate."

"I do not."

"You'd better I stayed here."

Barnabas gave off a self deprecating laugh. "No, if you got a job offer, you should go. The job market is tight enough already."

"Do you mind my leaving you?"

"No." His fingers moved over her neck. "Don't be hurt, but you can be replaced very easily. For this, I mean. But I enjoyed talking to you."

"I keep pestering you all the time. Coming to you with my problems or just forcing you to listen to my crazy theories."

"That's what I am here for. I did not expect to take your blood for free."

"Maybe you can come visit me there."

"No. I am allergic to mellow talk. I hear too much of it and I get this urge to smash hot tubs."

Her throat was exposed properly. He nipped at it and felt her find a more comfortable position. She was calm, and so was he.

He wondered still how it could feel so easy, so comfortable. He still remembered how it had been at the beginning, when his anger and hear made him deal death needlessly... when he strangled his victims to punish them for his own curse...

Thank God, those times were over...

* * *

He couldn't repress a shudder as she went into the room where his portrait was hidden. God, how he hated to look at that thing. Old, wrinkled, rotten, undignified. The lips twisted into a sardonic grin as if a ghastly joke was being played on him.

Why did he hate it so? That portrait would allow him to live forever. To be always young and handsome. Always charming. to remain unchanged, untouched by anything.

He should be glad of it. Should be grateful to Petofi for his gift. Yet he hated it.

But he couldn't afford to leave it behind. Either its power did not reach across realities, or if it did, anything could happen to it while he was away.

All he had to do was pick it up, and he could kiss sweet Carolyn goodbye.

He opened the door. The portrait was there, grinning at him, enjoying still the same ghastly joke.

"What is it with you?" he asked it without rancor "what do you know that I don't?"

"He knows that you are not going anywhere" Roger stepped out, a gun in his hand. "Not into Parallel Time, at least."

Quentin began a startled movement, but it was checked by the muzzle of the gun pointing straight at the portrait.

"Don't move or I'll shoot."

Roger would shoot. He loved firearms...

Roger had him. he hated it., but it did not change the fact.

"Let me go." he pleaded "You never wanted Carolyn to marry me in the first place."

"Carolyn wants you to stay with her, and that's enough for me. Turn around."

"Turn around? What for?"

"Just that. Turn around."

Quentin obeyed, stealing one last glance at his portrait. The grin had widened. He could almost hear Petofi's laughter...

Roger hit in in the head. Quentin collapsed on the ground.

Grinning with satisfaction, Roger picked up the portrait. Carolyn would be proud of him.

* * *

"Is it true that there was a wreck of a pirate galleon in this area?' the young man looked at the coastline. Hard to tell at night, but the romantic atmosphere of the tale he was hearing was much better than clear vision..

"It wasn't a pirate galleon. It was rumrunners" Derek explained patiently.

"Rumrunners?"

:"They were special, those rumrunners. They were Russian refugees. They had fallen on hard times. Instead of opening restaurants or taking menial jobs like other refugees did, they turned to crime. I think that they justified it as a way to raise quick cash for restoring the monarchy... They had some of the crown jewels with them..."

"But you said that they had come on hard times... Why not sell the jewels then?"

"They considered them a sacred trust. Mother Russia and all that... They hoped to use them in the coronation of the next czar."

"And they kept them in the boat?"

"In the safe. They had retreated to the boat preparing for the big battle. Somebody tried to take over their territory and they were driven to take a last stand on their boat. They lost the battle, and the boat was sunk. All the crew died, and the jewels ended up at the bottom of the ocean."

"And those are the Russian crown jewels?"

"Not all of them. But enough of them."

George decided to keep Derek honest, whether Derek liked it or not. He butted in. "What con are you working this time, Derek?" he asked, smiling.

"The Russian Crown jewels" the young man answered, trying hard not to laugh. "he tells a pretty yarn."

George guffawed "you overreached yourself, Derek. No one is going to believe that one."

"But it is true!" Derek protested "the jewels are down there!"

"Derek why not try selling something that is easier to believe in? Russian crown jewels, indeed.!"

"I heard if from one of the gunmen involved. He was drunk and he told me all about it."

"Derek, try to sell something that people believe it exists."

Derek went back home, grumbling. When for once he told the truth, no one believed him. If he had sold a phony map pointing to a sunken buccaneer ship and promised Spanish doubloons they would jump at the opportunity. But the Russian jewels would stay at the bottom of the sea forever.

* * *

Laugher...cruel laughter. Petofi's laugher, Aristide's laughter...

They were laughing at him. And Carl. And Jenny, And Magda...

"Did you think that you could escape us?" they said "You actually thought that you could do it?"

The stand was now empty. Carolyn had his portrait now. He could never escape her.

"No, you won't escape, dear Quentin."

Quentin sat on the floor, his head in his hands. What would he do? What could he do? For as long as Carolyn lived, he would be her slave...

But Carolyn would not live forever. When she died he would be free.

"Free to get your self into more of the same trouble" they answered. "how many traps have you fallen into before this? How many more will you fall in? You just can't help yourself."

They were right. He knew it. Carolyn's death would free him, but before he knew it, he'd be in hock to someone else. He lacked the willpower to do better...

"That's the secret of the painting, Quentin" Carl said. "you cannot change while it exists. You never learn anything, you never grow nor develop. Just as you were in 1897, you will be. Forever."

"Forever young. Forever handsome" Magda said "Forever dumb."

* * *

Well, at last he was showing a profit. After all these months, Chris Jennings had become a business success.

And when you considered what else had been going on at that time, it was even more remarkable.

Soon he would be able to settle down to a normal life. Or something resembling it.

Well, who was he to complain? He could have had the whole cure and had passed it up because it would take too long and because he was making money at the detective agency using his shape-changing abilities. Considering the nightmare that his life had been until he had learned to control himself, his troubles now were nothing.

Barnabas had been right about that. You cannot go on blaming your curse when it is clear that you should learn judgment, self-control, and other virtues that never were praised enough.

Tom hadn't possessed him because of the curse. He had possessed him because he had given way to hatred and resentment.

He shuddered. Tom. What he had known about that diseased mind was fig tingeing. And the worst part was how much of himself he recognized in it.

Tom and him had been indistinguishable as children. Why had Tom been stricken while he had been spared? What had made Tom's mind snap so that he would relish the part of the hunter? Hunter after the biggest game of all...

He knew of that girl that Tom had killed. There probably had been others. What he had tried to do to Angelique and Sandy showed how he had done it. How many more would have been if hadn't met Angelique?

Could he have ended up like Tom? Kidnapping girls and setting them loose in the woods so he could hunt them...

Tom had eaten human flesh. And not only in wolf form...

He threw his pencil in disgust. Would he ever be able to get Tom out of his mind? If he couldn't forget those days when Tom had possessed him, how could he expect others to forget? How could he expect Amy to react normally to him?

Give it time, Barnabas had said. But even Barnabas could not look at him without remembering what had been done to Phillip.

* * *

"Barnabas is still quiet." Maggie commented.

"Not a peep" Sabrina said "And he'll probably stay that way."

"I wish I had your confidence." Maggie grumbled "I have a hunch that he will be making news before long. I know him. If he can find a way to make a nuisance of himself, he will."

"Come on, you are being paranoid."

Maggie sighed, irritated. "I don't like it. I have this idea that in the middle of the campaign someone will come up with questions about him. Then suddenly there will be stories about girls being attacked and found dazed with two small wounds in their throats."

"But why would that happen?"

"Because this campaign is such an important one for me. That's why."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When Iris came in, Vicky was there, and the nervousness in her was only too apparent.

"So you are Victoria Winters?" Iris said cordially "I heard plenty about you, but never got to meet you personally."

"Yes. I am. And... and who are you?"

"Iris White. I am Barnabas' very close friend. All right, lover. These are the eighties and there is no need for euphemisms.

The look that Vicky gave her was three parts amazement and one part distrust.

"I bet that you are wondering whether vampires can have normal sexual relations. Well, they can, and Barnabas does."

There was a deep blush coming into Vicky's cheeks.

"I am sorry. I forgot that you come from a more sexually repressed time. What we call the sexual revolution had just started when you disappeared. You married a virgin, didn't you?"

Vicky's blush deepened even more. She could not bear to hear these things discussed by complete strangers.

"Anything wrong?' Phillip asked, coming in.

"It seems I put my foot in my mouth" Iris sighed. "I don't mean to, but..."

Vicky managed a brave smile "It is all right" she drew a deep breath "I was warned that things had changed since I... went away. But now I am finding out how much."

"I didn't want to hurt you, in any way, please believe me." Iris said earnestly. It is just that..." Iris stopped. With all her good intentions, she would go on saying the wrong things.

And where her intentions really good? Barnabas had once been in love with Vicky, and she was now burning with jealousy, even if she denied it. She had come to take a look at her rival.

"I guess that I'll be going" she said lamely "I can see Barnabas later."

Vicky saw her get up, go to the door...

"Wait! Don't go!" she begged.

Iris turned "Do you want me to stay?"

"Will you tell me about Barnabas?"

Iris looked puzzled "What's there to tell? I can't help being crude and..."

"I remember reading your name in the paper. He had attacked you when I was... still here."

"But that was years ago!" Iris blurted out, then added regretfully "but for you it is still yesterday, isn't it?"

Vicky nodded.

"I am sorry." Iris said again. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It is not your fault." Vicky steeled herself to listen She should not expect people to accommodate her. "I just want to know how come, after the way he hurt you, you can be so... so friendly with him."

"Did he ever hurt you?"

"He could have. He wanted me to run away with him. If we had... if he had his way..."

"But it didn't happen. And there is little danger of it happening again."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if he ever looks at you that way I'll take him apart with a blunt nail file."

"You would?" Vicky's eyes widened.

"Just kidding."

"But why doe he want me to move in with him?"

"Because you need help. You are not the first bird with a broken wing that he has taken in. There was Phillip, and Louella Loomis and Amy..."

"Louella Loomis?"

"Sure, Willie's wife. Didn't you know that Willie married? And he has his own shop, selling all kinds of electrical appliances."

"Willie... married..." Vicky shook he head in amazement.

"A bit of a rocky marriage I understand. But at this moment it seems to be on a better footing. But I shouldn't talk about rocky. My own relationship with Barnabas is rocky."

"Why is it rocky?"

"Because our personalities clash, and because I am not sure how much of a commitment I want."

"And he... he always." Vicky swallowed saliva, not knowing whether or not to speak of it. "he is still attacking girls."

"He does not need to take it by force now. And that was the worst part of it. The way he does it, it is almost painless, and with no bad effects whatsoever." she opened her collar so that Vicky could see the scars. "he can make it feel very nice. Very friendly and affectionate."

Vicky looked skeptical, but said nothing to this.

"But don't you worry. He'll keep away from you as long as that is what you want."

"He's already been at me... in Wyncliffe."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" Vicky laughed without humor "He saved me. If it wasn't for him I would still be catatonic. I feel rotten about it. If it wasn't for what he does, I would still be staring at the ceiling. Why can't I feel gratitude at least? Why can't I keep from shivering when I think of him, and thinking of what might have happened if we had run away together?"

"You have been through a lot" Iris said sympathetically "You are pulling yourself together and it is a long process. He understands that., and he does not mind your taking your frustrations on him.

"He won't mind?"

"It would not be the first time a patient got unreasonable on him."

"A patient?" Vicky's voice rose in pitch "Is that all I am? A patient?"

She wondered why she would feel so hurt. It was true after all...

"At the moment, yes."

Vicky felt her face burning, felt the tears fighting to get out, felt her fists close, as if wanting to beat against something... Why did this have to happen to her? Why? She lifted her fists, but let them fall again...

...There was no need anymore... she wasn't in the bottle anymore.

She was free. She was back in Collinsport. And she was lost...

Peter was dead, hanged. He was as lost to her as Burke was. Everybody had changed. Only Barnabas remained, and she was only a mental case to him...

Iris was still speaking but she could not listen to her anymore. Nothing made sense. How could Barnabas be what he was, do what he did, and still command so much love and respect? What sense did it make?

A creaking door told her that Barnabas was about.

"Iris" he sounded somewhat uncomfortable "have you met Vicky?"

"Yes. We have been talking, the two of us."

Vicky was looking at him, the way she always did. The same painful mixture of longing, fear, anger, and something else he could not name. As if she expected him to find her answer when she did not know the questions...

He should give her time, as he had given Phillip. But with her it was different. In the back of his mind there was always the fear that, unable to cope, she would retreat again into herself.

He could bite her again, but shouldn't. It would solve the situation temporarily, but also shatter whatever fragile trust she had in him. And if she didn't trust him, he could not help her.

He led Iris away where they could talk.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"She seems very confused, to say the least. I wonder if it is a good idea to have her here."

Barnabas nodded.

"I know, you area going to say that I am jealous" Iris continued, defensively. "still the way she looks makes me uneasy."

"It makes me uneasy too." Barnabas admitted "I agree that she should not be here. But where else can she go?"

* * *

"That's a good lobster" Kenneth sucked on the claws. "don't you agree?"

"Yup" Julia nodded.

"We should do this more often"

"We'll try" Julia hesitated "But I am so busy lately..."

"I should go to work at Wyncliffe."

"Why? Julia asked, surprised.

"So I could see you more often. The fact is that Barnabas sees more of you than I do."

"Kenneth... he's just working for me."

"That's what I said. The only way to see you is to work for you."

"But... but..."

"Of courses, I know that there is nothing between the two of you. I am not jealous of him. But I am jealous of your work. You are just too wrapped up in it."

Julia cocked her head, defiantly.

"I know that you are dedicated. So am I. But I can still find time to read books., to go to the movies, to do something else besides work, work, work. You are a workaholic, Julia."

"I have a big responsibility."

"Learn to delegate it. The clinic won't come crashing down just because you get somebody to share the load there."

Julia shook her head.

"I have to be there, to make sure that Barnabas does not try another of his crazy theories."

"He's been right up to now, hasn't he?"

"Yes, but..."

"But the fact that the hasn't got a degree gets under your skin, eh?"

"It is just that..."

"Julia" Kenneth said quietly "I didn't want to say this, but somehow I feel like...like we are never close. That we don't have a life together, you and . It is like you have your own life, your own concerns, and that I am just an intruder."

"How can you say that?"

* * *

Barb' face was white with fright.

"What's wrong?" Barnabas asked her.

"Donna. She was killed " Barb sucked up breath "she hitchhiked on the wrong car. As you said it would happen... She was raped and killed..."

She could not finish. Barnabas held her in his arms and let her cry. It could have been her, she was thinking. She could have gotten in the wrong car..."

"Did you know her?" she asked.

"I talked with her a couple of times. Not much, but..."

She continued crying for a while. Barnabas let her do. Then once she had no more tears, he made her sit down and gave her brandy.

"What do you want to do?" he finally asked.

"I guess I should start fighting for the bus service" she said, dully "Until we get it, none of us will be safe."

Her resolution struck him. "It might be a long fight" he warned her. "They can make life miserable for you."

"I don't care ! You were right! Something has to be done, and if I am not willing to do it, no one else will."

"I am trying to do something about that. Mr. Torrance is involved in it..."Barnabas' voice trailed. He knew how little encouragement Torrance had given him.

"But it is my fight. Mine and the other girls'"

It was quite late when she left. He had not been able to shake her off from her conviction that something had to be done and that she was the one who could make it happen.

And so she drove away, a diminutive Norma Rae, with nothing but her stubbornness and her innocence to prepare her for the trouble that lay ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Barb did not know what she was getting into. And he could not stop her.

Part of him did not want to stop her. Something had to be done about the situation. He and Frank were trying, but they knew how long it would take, done through channels.

It clawed at him, the same as Roxanne's memory did. But while he could not help Roxanne, he could help Barb and the other girls.

He then knew what he could do.

It struck him, and twisted him, bringing back all his old fears and memories.

...The way things used to be...

It would be for a short time only. And for a good cause.

What if he found out that he liked it better that way? What if somehow he was pulled back into it?

It was crazy. And yet it was the best way to put pressure on then shopping center. It was a way of reminding them that safe transportation was to their own advantage., too.

If he did nothing, the girls would go on hitchhiking, taking chances nightly. And soon there would be another body...

If only he could be more sure of it. If only he didn't have this feeling that he was playing Russian roulette.

He found, without surprise, that he was again standing by Dave's grave.

"It seems that I can't keep away from here" he said apologetically "I hope that I don't look too ridiculous."

He sat down and laid his hand on the ground. "I have a tough decision to make, and I have the feeling that whatever I do I will regret it. I can either go the official route and hope for the best, or... or I can put real pressure on them."

"So put pressure?" he laughed nervously "Well, yes, the problem is what I mean by applying pressure... the way I used to be... the way I used to attack girls for their blood... I don't do that anymore. I can do it without violence, and without harm. I would not have it any other way..." his voice became deep "I need to do it with affection. I need affection as much as I need blood. I could not go back to ..to that without mutilating myself..

"Yet, if attacks like those were to be repeated on the shop girls, if there were constant reports of it in the newspaper, that would hurt hem, wouldn't it? The shopping center is out of town. Not everyone there knows about me. They would be scared if it made front page news. And the tourists would be scared too...

"Then, once they began to lose clients, they will see that it is to their advantage to give the girls safe transportation.

"I have a way to give those girls a safe ride home. Quickly. Not with all deliberate speed. But there would still be pain... I will be hurting time... For their own good, but I would be hurting them... On the other hand..."

"On the other hand you can always ask me to make the decision for you."

Barnabas straightened up, surprised. He had not truly expected Dave to show up. He only needed to get his worries off his chest somehow.

"Just look at you." Dave shook his head mockingly "If they ever gave out medals for stubbornness and wrong-headedness, you'd have trunkfuls by now."

"I...I am sorry."

"Can't you say anything else? You sound too much like a broken record."

"All right." Barnabas fought to control himself. No sentimental displays, he reminded himself "What do you suggest I do?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to.. to get that bus service... but not this way... is there another?"

"Yours is the fastest."

"So it is a good idea."

"Except for the toll it will take on you."

"Either way it will cost me."

"Then if you do it, you'll have at least something to show for it."

* * *

Oriana was tired when she arrived to Collinsport. And with fatigue, some self-doubt that crept into her. What guarantee did she have that Barnabas was interested in her? Wasn't all of it an exercise in futility?

But he had been tempted. That time his lips had found her throat, she had been aware of his roving hands. He had wanted her. Had wanted her body. A few words and they would have been in bed together.

Maybe now it would be different. Maybe this time his hands would venture further...

Phillip was there, and with him a pale woman that kept shooting nervous glances around.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the beach?" she heard Phillip offer the nervous woman "I can get you a swimsuit."

"No thanks." Vicky answered "maybe tomorrow.."

Oriana klaxonned, making both of them look at her.

"Hey, do you recognize me?"

Phillip ran to her as she was lowering her bag.

"Are you planning to stay?"

"Unless I am too much of an inconvenience. Who's the waif?" she asked pointed to Vicky with her chin.

"Victoria Winters."

"She's Barnabas' current project, I gather." she could not help sounding jealous.

"Like Amy" Phillip said quickly " And what brings you here?

"I want to do a follow up story on the Davenport Center. Maybe an in-depth view of the tribe. I never got the interview with Munsungan that Barnabas promised me."

Phillip sighed. What Oriana wanted wasn't an article. But he could not send her away. It was up to Barnabas.

And maybe she would be good for Vicky.

He helped bring her bag in.

"We gave Vicky your room" he explained. "but I'll get you another one. this place is big enough."

"It'll do." she said, as Phillip showed it to her. She sat on the bed. "What is the story, anyway?"

"I don't know if you'll believe it."

"I have come to believe plenty here. Come tell me."

Phillip spread his hands. "Vicky is a time traveler. She was catatonic until recently. Her latest memories are of 1796. And before that, 1968."

Oriana could not repress a low whistle.

"That is really something."

"What's worse, she's afraid of Barnabas. Seems that between the two of them certain things happened, and she can't forget them."

"What kind of things.?"

"Barnabas was very attached to her. Enough for him to consider making him as he was...is."

"And should she stay here?"

"That's worrying Barnabas too. The problem is that she doesn't have anyone else she could move in. She has no friends. She was close to Maggie Evans, and Maggie is now in Washington. There is Carolyn, but Collinwood is the last place I'd send somebody as fragile as her... Maybe Willie will take her in."

"It would be best if he did." Even as a project, she did not like to have Vicky around.

* * *

"You still circulating Anderson petitions?" Chris asked Amy.

"We have to get him on the ballot this election. If we don't we are stuck with Carter or Reagan."

"I know... I know... Sit down Amy. I want to talk to you."

"But I have to..."

"It can wait. Come, sit, little sister."

Amy sat down reluctantly.

"You can't get Tom out of your mind, is that it?"

Amy nodded.

"I thought so. The way you look... it was the same when the reporter came back. She expected me to do God knows what." he shuddered. "As if she expected me to do to again...what she saw Tom doing."

"But she is wrong!" Amy protested hotly... maybe too hotly.

"You say that, and you want to believe that. But inside you doubt. Am I Chris or am I Tom? You can't be sure." he laid one hand on Amy's shoulder.

In spite of herself Amy recoiled.

"You see, you are afraid of me."

"I don't want to be." Amy said miserably.

"I know you don't. I know that you are trying to act as if nothing happened."

"It wasn't your fault."

"That's not the point. We have to talk about it." Chris bit his lip. "we have to get it clear between us. I can live with people looking at me in odd ways. But not my sister. I lost one brother already. I don't want to lose you too."

"Tom..."

"Our brother was a psychopathic killer. We have to face it. But we also loved him, and nothing can change that, either. Something snapped in his mind. I will love him no less because of that."

"He used to take me to the movies." Amy was close to tears. "he'd bring me candy and play games with me... Then he stopped doing it."

"They never could tell us apart" Chris said softly "we used to fool the teacher all the time, reciting the lesson fort the other, and things like that."

"He once made a doll for me, all by himself...I think I still have it. Do you want to see it?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Barnabas was surprised to see Oriana in the middle of unpacking.

"Are you back?"

"Yes. Do you mind?"

"No. Of course I don't I hope that your stay this time is less eventful, though."

"If I make things difficult for you and Vicky I'll move out."

"Phillip told you about her?"

"Yes."

"You won't have to move because of her. I think that she should move with Willie for her own sake."

Oriana nodded. "From what Phillip told me, I think it would be best."

"Yes. She and I..." Vicky was too much of reminder of how things used to be... Those days in which he threatened Maggie and abused Julia... when Willie looked at him with fear in his eyes, and he enjoyed that fear... No, Vicky should be gone...

"What about you?" he asked, changing the conversation abruptly.

"Tracking different stories... Do you remember that you still owe me a story about the local shaman?"

Barnabas made a face "Not now. But I got another story that you might like."

He told her quickly about the shopping center and the lack of transportation for the shop girls.

"You want me to write it?"

"It is a good story. And a good way to put pressure too."

"Yes. " Oriana was thoughtful. "I can see the angles on it."

At a distance, Vicky sat, looking out the window. She knew that she was being rotten company, but she could not bring herself to join the conversation. Barnabas and that woman were laughing together, sharing reminiscences she knew nothing about.

And Phillip...

Phillip made her so uneasy... made her thing about things she did not want to remember...

What was that she wanted, really? Did she want Barnabas to notice her? To look at her?

To hypnotize her into eloping with him?

She was not the only bird with a broken wing that he had taken in. She would not be the last.

Barnabas glanced at her. She was unhappy and afraid. She should have never come live with him.

And now that Oriana had made the decision for him on what he should do about the shopping center, there was even more reason for Vicky to move in with Willie. What would happen would be too much like old times, and he wanted her away from it.

"Do you feel all right?" Phillip asked Vicky, softly.

Vicky nodded. "She's very close to him, isn't she?" she indicated Oriana.

"You won't believe it, but at first she reacted to him worse than you do. I think I told you about her. The reporter he kidnapped. She gave him quite a bit of flak. Always hostile towards him."

"How come she changed her mind?"

"He gave her a couple of stories she could not resist. Maybe Willie will tell you more about it. He seemed to think it was funny, the way it turned out."

* * *

Buffy Harrington studied the room. It would need a lot of cleaning. She could not have a room looking like that, no matter what Mr. Collins said.

"You should not be here." Roxanne warned her.

"This place needs cleaning."

"It is dangerous" Roxanne insisted. "you could be ..lost. Even if we have some schedule of the changes, sometimes they happen earlier."

"How could I be lost?"

"Remember Barnabas Collins? He vanished in this room."

"Barnabas Collins?" In spite of herself, Buffy shuddered. She was overreacting. All things considered Barnabas had not harmed her, and compared with what was out walking the streets, he was very acceptable. Sill, the memory of his teeth on her throat sent a shiver down her spine.

"You knew him, didn't you?"

"I met him while I was still working at the Eagle. It was after I had been involved with John Yeager."

Roxanne looked at her quizzically "How much did you know him?"

"He bit me." Buffy shrugged "well, compared with what John Yeager put me through, it was nothing... And when you think of what is going on these days, it seems even less.:"

"Well, he disappeared here, and we don't have any idea of what might have happened to him. Just to be on the safe side..."

"It would seem to me that wherever Barnabas Collins is now is a lot safer than here" Buffy said cynically.

"Yes. But this is our world. This is where we must stay."

From the door in this universe Quentin listened to them. If only he had jumped Roger... if only he had gone for his portrait sooner... if only...

It was terrible, to watch his freedom so close by and never to be able to touch it. he could so taste it...

"You'll never be free, Quentin."

He turned. Jenny. Magda.. Carl.

"You don't have to rub it in." he said, bitterly.

* * *

"Of course, Vicky can stay with us" Willie said "we'd love having her here."

"Are you sure that she won't be an inconvenience?"

"I like her."

Barnabas sighed "I feel like I am imposing on you."

Willie looked at him knowingly "That is not what is eating you, is it?"

"No, it isn't. She just brings back bad memories for me. And they are a bit tough to take."

"I see. When are you going to stop punishing yourself for it?"

"I don't" Barnabas protested.

"You do. I don't get it. You read all those psychology books, and treat patients successfully. But when it comes to yourself, you are incredibly obtuse. You just want to suffer for it. And I won't have it."

Barnabas put his arm around Willie's shoulders "Thanks for caring. But I am afraid that there is not much you can do about it."

Louella appeared on the door before Willie could answer. "Are you two done talking?"

"Yes." Willie looked in her direction. "Barnabas asked me if we could take in Vicky Winters. I said we would. I know that I should have asked you.. but she needs a place to stay and she doesn't have anywhere else to go."

"Victoria Winters?" Louella asked.

"She could give you a hand in the house" Barnabas offered.

Louella shrugged "Well, why not? I'll enjoy having someone I can have a girl talk with.

"So that's not a problem for you?'"

"None at all."

* * *

Such sweet kids, Willie and Louella. he had almost asked her for her throat, but had restrained himself, remembering what he had to do.

He gathered his courage for what he knew must be done.

He fluttered over the center, patiently waiting for the last bus to leave.

Soon all the shoppers would be gone, and only the shop girls would remain.

It had to be done...

He chose her carefully. Young, plump, strong. She would probably scream and put up a fight.

She was walking, looking nervously around.

He gulped once, then materialized in front of her.

She screamed as he caught her arms and forced her head back.

She was kicking still as he bit into her. Then her body sagged forward.

She looked so fragile, so weak in his arms... There was fear in her glazed eyes.

Her pulse was steady. There had been little, if any, physical damage.

But the emotional one...

He let her lie down, as comfortably as he could, then hovered over her, keeping guard. He wasn't going to risk letting the creep who had killed the other girl find her in such a state.

The fear in her eyes... How could he have lived with that fear so long? Because it had been that way for him for so many nights...

And it had been worse... The ones he had killed... It had been at the beginning, when he was it too much pain, too bewildered to understand what he had to do. He had not known his own strength and squeezed their necks harder than he ought... or rather not squeeze their necks at all. He had been careless.

He remembered their faces, some of their names. He never knew them... It would have taken so little to spare them. A couple more minutes, a cool head...

But he had chosen to panic. Had chosen to dwell on his own misery and obsession with revenging himself on Angelique... Had chosen to beat his head against a wall...

Both George and Megan had tried to make it easy on him, remarking that given the circumstances, the only thing surprising about the damage he had done was that there had been no more of it. He was caught in a completely unfamiliar situation, with potential with disaster, and he had panicked... As George put it , it was as if he was suddenly whisked into a car, which was speeding on an icy road, without being told where the brake was.

But all of their words did not make the ache go away. Because it would have taken so little to spare them.

The girl's lids fluttered open. She was coming to. She would be weak, dazed, and afraid. But she would be all right And soon the wounds in her neck would be gone.

Except for the psychological scars.

The girl sat up, looked around, trying to recollect what she was doing there and how she got that way.

And when she did, she screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Are you sure that I am not an inconvenience?" Vicky asked for the umpteenth time.

"You would do the same for me." Willie grinned widely.

It was difficult to believe that this self-assured man was the Willie she knew. The one who was always darting nervous glances over his shoulder. Willie Loomis was a lout. Willie Loomis sniveled. Willie was just a bum...

Buy the man she was now looking at was none of those things.

"What about your wife? Does she mind?"

"Louella does not mind. You'll like her. We've had our ups and downs, but it is all in the past, now."

"Like with Barnabas?" she couldn't resist asking.

Willie sighed. Probably Vicky had heard the same speech from everybody else, yet he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"All right, Vicky, let's talk about Barnabas. You are still remembering the way he was ten -twelve years ago. I will not pretend that he was right in doing the things he did. Some of them.. Let's say that I am glad those days are over."

"Are they?"

"Is there is one thing that I am sure about is that he would not go back to that."

"But he had that reporter kidnapped, just as he did to Maggie."

"If he had treated Maggie like he treated Oriana, Maggie would have never needed to go to Wyncliffe."

"You used to be afraid all the time."

"Yes. I was. It was scary living with him... living with what he was then."

"But what's the difference between then and now. He still has this... this need."

"But he is in control of himself. That makes all the difference. He's my best friend. I don't think that I would be where I am now if it wasn't for him."

"And what does Louella think of him?"

"She used to be real scared at first. Then she got into trouble and he pulled her out. " his voice became low, as he was ashamed to admit the rest of it. "and... and when she had that other trouble, it was to him that she went. She stayed with him until I was able to get my head together."

Louella greeted them. She was just the type of woman you expected to marry Willie, Vicky thought.

"I hope that you like the room we got for you." she said to Vicky "nothing fancy like at the Old House, but with modern conveniences."

Later, alone at night in her room, she looked out of the window. The trees cast strange shadows out there, and there was no way that she could find the tell-tale silhouette of a small bat.

He wanted her. He would come for her, and they would elope. But he had to kill Burke first... No, Burke was already dead. Killed in that plane accident...

He had lost all of them. Elizabeth was gone. Peter had been hanged. Roger still stayed, a shadow of his former self. She couldn't recognize Carolyn in the bitter mistress of Collinwood. Julia... Willie... they had changed so much.

If Barnabas had changed, then nothing was left.

Barnabas had to stay as he was. She knew that now. He had to love her, need her even to the point...

She laid back on her bed, waiting with half-closed eyes to the fluttering of wings outside.

And so she waited, the covers drawn back from her throat.

But Barnabas did not come for her

* * *

"How's the article going?" Barnabas asked Oriana.

"As I said, it practically writes itself. Got plenty of interesting stuff and tie-ups with mass transportation needs, the energy crisis, and how women are devalued in the workplace. One thing worries me, thought" she added.

"The girls being attacked now?"

'How did you know?"

Barnabas nodded, saying nothing.

"Is it you?"

"They were not seriously hurt."

"No, but..."

"And it is a good way to keep the pressure on them."

She looked at him strangely. "Still, why did you have to do it?"

"No comment."

"Do you know what you are doing?"

"I know very well what I am doing. Just write your article and let me do the rest."

"I don't like it."

"Just trust me. It will come out all right."

* * *

Iris paced impatiently at the Old House.

"Dusk won't come faster because you are wearing out the carpet.," Oriana said, pounding at her typewriter.

"What do you care? You are getting your story, that's all." Iris said venomously.

"He asked me to write it." Oriana said defensively.

"Do you realize what he is doing?"

"I know. I am worried about it, too."

"Not enough to stop writing about it. Not enough to stop setting him up. As long as you get a good story, you don't care."

'He had decided it before I came here. If I wasn't here, he'd probably do worse to put pressure on the shopping center."

"You should have tried to talk him out of it. Do you realize what could happen to him?" Iris looked at her with hatred "But then, if anything happens, you'll have a better story still."

"I would never do that." Oriana felt her face become flushed. She would not admit, even to herself, how far she was willing to go for a story. No, she would never exploit Barnabas...

Or would she?

"If you loved him as much as you think you do, you'd never lend a hand to this."

"I do love him." Oriana said firmly "and before you put on that jealous act, do I have to remind you about your affair with Phillip?"

"Whatever else I did, I did not set up Barnabas to be killed."

By the time dusk and Barnabas arrived, they were on the verge of physically attacking each other.

"Barnabas! Iris ran to him. "What are you doing to yourself?"

Barnabas hugged her. "Don't worry about me."

"Do you realize the danger you are in?"

"Please, don't talk" he held her close "Just be here. Let me hold you."

Iris pulled back, angry "What do you mean? You are killing yourself and I am supposed to be warmly supportive?"

"Iris, please..."

"You are cutting your own throat and I am supposed to say nothing about it? For how long can you go on attacking those girls before they start digging out the old stories? And when things get to hot for you, what do you think that Maggie will do? Do you think that she'll let you wreck her chance for the Senate? What about Davenport? Do you think that he'll let you ruin him? What about the Chamber of Commerce? For how long will they allow you to scare the tourists away?"

"But how can you be so sure it is me?" Barnabas asked, mildly.

"You've been in a state about that shopping center. You even got her" she pointed to Oriana "writing about it. You yourself kept complaining than the official route was too slow."

"That still isn't enough evidence."

"It is enough for me. And it is going to be enough for Maggie. Do you want to find out how far she'll go in protecting herself?"

"Iris." he pleaded "this isn't easy for me. I wish you could be more understanding."

"Sure, I'll be more understanding. And what good will my understanding do when they stake you? No, I don't understand any of it. In one hundred years I will not understand it."

He looked at her sadly "I need your support" he said.

"You are cutting your own throat and I won't be a party to it."

Angrily she left, slamming the door.

"I guess that everyone will be dropping in with the same message" he mused.

Oriana laid her hand on his arm "Can I help?" she said softly/

He turned around "Do you think this is crazy?"

'I know what you are trying to do. And I admire you for it."

He put his hand over hers and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Do you mean that? You think that I am doing the right thing?"

"Something has to be done. She began kneading his arm "It is a shame that you are the only one with guts in this business."

His smile widened. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Ask anything"

"I had forgotten how... how terrible it could be. It is getting to me. And tonight I want to go back to normal. I want to be kind and gentle about it, the way it should always be... I don't think that it would make much of a difference if some nights I don't show up."

"It might be better if you kept an erratic pattern."

'Yes..." he took her chin and made her look up. "Do you mind if... If I use you tonight?"

It was good to hold her in his arms and feel her trust. It was good that she did not fear him, not what he was doing to her.

She ran her hands through his hair. Maybe not tonight, but she would take her to bed. He had to. Iris had left him after a fight and he was lonely again. Lonely and emotionally exhausted.

She would give him the support he needed. She would never question him. She would hold him close and tell him that he was right.

And what if Iris was right? What if she was setting him up to be killed?

No, it wouldn't happen. He would be careful and she would help him.

* * *

There was something about Vicky that disturbed him, Willie decided. Maybe it was the way she looked at him. Maybe it was the kind of questions she asked.

"Do you remember Jason McGuire?" she asked him while she was shelling peas.

"Yeah."

"I wonder what happened to him."

Willie went white. He stuttered. Just as he used to do back then. Vicky smiled inwardly as she recognized the old Willie.

She actually was enjoying his discomfort... it couldn't be, but she was enjoying herself.

Willie shook his head. He must not allow himself to think these things. Vicky was just very confused. It wasn't her fault that she said the wrong thing every now and then.

"Did you kill him?"

"No!"

"You might have done it. Arguing about money."

"I didn't Barnabas did."

Vicky's face changed. Consternation. Fear... and quiet triumph.

"It was self-defense... I was there... Jason had broken in and was ready to... to hurt him. And then it was arranged."

"Arranged?"

"The Leviathan. Jason knew too much of their plans for Carolyn."

Vicky paled visibly at the mention of the Leviathan, but went on.

"But you said Barnabas did it."

"They had ways to arrange it. They made him get too close to Barnabas. Jason took the bait and... and that was the end of him."

"Still it was Barnabas who did it."

Why did she have that satisfied, smug smile? It wasn't his imagination.. She was amusing herself at his expense...

And her eyes penetrated him, stripping him of all pretense. He would never be Mr. Loomis to her. Just Willie, the oaf.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The girl collapsed, her face frozen in fear.

Barnabas let her lie down. He fought off his impulse to hold her and comfort her. There would be time for that later. Now that fear had its uses.

He wondered for how much longer he would have to do this. Granted that it was a good idea, he didn't think that he could take much more of it.

He remembered Kathy confidently resting her head on his shoulder. That was the way it was meant to be. Gentle and pleasant, with no bitter aftertaste..

He knew that the physiological damage was slight. The attacked girls would probably be warier getting back home and would start worrying about safe transportation, thus keeping themselves out of reach of the one who had killed Donna.

But did they have to be so afraid, so helpless? Did they have to collapse on the ground, like limp rags?

And they would be prostrated afterwards. Not for long, thankfully, but they would be, all the same. And their memories would be bitter.

He promised himself that as soon as this trouble would clear up he would do something about it. If he had been able to explain to Iris and the others from town, he should be able to explain to these girls why they had to be hurt.

The girl woke up. They always did. And in schedule, the scream came.

* * *

Harry Redwolf swung his legs over Davenport's desk.

"You know what the problem is." he said. "it is in all the newspapers."

"It cannot be him." Davenport protested.

"It is him. It has to do with the fact that shop girls don't have safe transportation back from work."

"Even if he was..."

"He brought you here. You put him on your payroll for a while."

"I should not have let him go..."

"Let's say that he's lucky and gets away with it. In the meantime, there will be a lot of questions asked." Harry pounded his fist against his other hand for emphasis. "There is plenty of Indian money and jobs tied up here. I don;t want them to go down the drain."

"What is it that you are suggesting we do?" Xavier pushed his chair back.

"I am not suggesting anything. Just explaining the situation."

Xavier looked at him with scorn. "You are a politician, all right. Straight talk is an impossibility for you."

"Well, do you have an idea of what to do?

"You are testing me to see how I react to the idea of having him bumped off."

The blood drained off Harry's face " I couldn't... I wouldn't"

"As Nixon said 'it would be wrong'. You don't sound convincing, either."

Redwolf looked at him hard. "You do not mind having him killed. You just want someone else to do the dirty work for you. You just want to be able to deny everything."

"I think that you have said enough" Xavier said stonily "I think that you have overstayed your welcome, Mr. Redwolf."

* * *

Maggie's livid face was enough to tell Sabrina that she had seen the paper.

"What did I tell you?" she said truculently "here it is, just as in 1967."

"There is no proof that it is him." Sabrina protested.

"Does it matter? The investigation will get close to him, anyway."

"Calm yourself."

"Calm myself? Am I not getting enough trouble with endorsements and finances that I need this? I got three bills pending, and my reelection will hinge on getting them passed. And any chances for the Senate, too. do I also need to worry about what Barnabas is doing in Collinsport?"

She sat down and put her head in her hands. "Why, oh why, did I ever let him manage my first campaign?"

"He was helpful then. And then that was a long shot..."

"Well, this isn't a long shot. I am going to be the next elected Senator from Maine. I am not going to lose this chance."

"Do you want me to go there, and see what I can do?""

Maggie nodded. "I need you here, too... but this is so damn important."

She was tired. It had been several days that she lived on coffee, sleeping intermittently. And campaigning would be rougher still. She did not need the aggravation that Barnabas represented.

"I will try to talk sense into him." Sabrina said.

"You may not be able to."

"In which case, do I deep-six him?"

"Yes."

* * *

Vicky held the paper close to her. Yes, things were as they should be. Girls were being attacked on lonely nights.

She had been right. Things hadn't changed. HE hadn't changed.

"A penny for your thoughts" Willie said.

"I was remembering the party at the Old House. When we all dressed up in old clothes."

"I remember it." In spite of himself Willie tensed up.

"I was supposed to be Josette. Elizabeth was supposed to be Naomi. Roger was supposed to be Joshua... who were you supposed to be?"

"Me?" Willie laughed nervously "I was just the handyman."

"You looked scared, then."

"I guess I had reason to be, then."

"Do you still stutter?"

"No... I... I... do...do.. a lot less of it no.. no... now."

Vicky's lips curled imperceptibly. Yes, Willie was still nervous, still scared. Just as she remembered him.

Willie wondered why he couldn't control himself better. He had a business, money in the bank, respectability of sorts. Why did he feel like the shiftless drifter he had been?

"You had been in jail, hadn't you?" she asked, almost innocently.

"Yes."

"That was where you met Jason McGuire."

"Yes."

He knew that he was breaking into a cold sweat. He felt like shaking Vicky and screaming at her to stop it.

But stop what? She was doing nothing... just trying to make sense of what had happened to her.

"Willie, where are you?" Louella came in from the shop front. "Someone wants you to demonstrate the new gizmo."

"I am going" Willie breathed deeply, reminding himself that this was his shop and his customer out there. That he wasn't back at the Old House, locked into Barnabas' self- destructive games.

Louella studied Vicky. What was with her that made Willie so uncomfortable? She sensed it, but could not understand it.

"Do you mind if I say something?"

Vicky lifted her eyes. She was there still. The woman who was supposed to be Willie's wife. But how could that be? Willie wasn't married...

"You and Willie talk a lot together" Louella tried to sound good humored. "I feel kind of excluded.

"Are you jealous of me?"

"Of course not. But I would like to know what you two talk about."

":Just old times. The way things used to be."

"When Willie was still working for Barnabas?" Louella sat down.

She wasn't going to go away, Vicky realized. No matter how hard she wished Louella gone, she stayed there.

"How was Willie then?" Louella asked, knowing that the answer would explain the way that Willie had been behaving.

"Rather sneaky. He was involved in Jason McGuire's blackmail plot. And we knew that he had been in jail."

"Yes, he was in jail" Louella said between her teeth.

"And he used to look so... so nervous. He stuttered and drank."

"He's changed a lot since then, don't you think?"

"It is hard to believe that he would one day have a shop of his own. That he would one day amount to this."

Louella bit her lips so as not to scream. She knew now what Vicky was doing to Willie.

* * *

"Who yelled at you today?" Oriana asked while editing her papers.

"Megan Graham"

"That makes it ten. Iris, the sheriff, Julia, her husband, Phillip, Chris, Amy, Angelique, Davenport and now her."

"At least you don't do it." he sighed as he sat down next to her "Soon I'll be hearing from Willie."

"I think that it is difficult enough for you wihtout everyone yelling at you on top of it."

"Do you understand why I have to do this?"

"I think that if they want to criticize you they should come up iwth a better idea, not just say that you are cutting your own throat and that nothing can be done about it."

She laid her hand on his shoulder and began moving, imperceptibly, towards him.

"Please, don't" he said. he pulled away gently "it is risky for you."

"I don't mind."

"You know what might happen to you. It could happen very easily since you are the only one of my sources who does not lecture me."

"Not even Frances?"

"Not even her. So you see, you are too attractive to me. And if I had an accident with you, I'd never forgive myself."

"What about Willie's wife?"

"They decided they are going to have a baby, so she's off limits."

Oriana shrugged "All right. I will make it ways on you." she got up and moved away from him. "But it is going to be strained. I know how much you need affection."

"When I am done at the shopping center, I'll come back and let you mother me."

As he left, Barnabas knew that he stirrings he felt for Oriana were not just the results of bloodlust.

"Admit it" he told himself "you want to make love to her."

He had wanted to, from the first. But there was his loyalty to Iris to consider. And then, while she was his prisoner, he could not submit her to sexual abuse.

But she wasn't a prisoner anymore. And Iris... Iris was not on speaking terms with him again.

Iris had consoled herself with Phillip. Why couldn't he console himself with Oriana? There was no law that said so...

Damn it! There was also no law that said you couldn't court Josette while at the same time bedding her maid! Practically everyone else did it, for that matter!

So he felt bad. He had the blues. Still that didn't give him the right to treat Oriana like a convenience... to treat her the way he had treated Angelique...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Barnabas stared out the window. Why couldn't they understand why he was doing it? Not a word as to how the girls should get home. Just worry that he was going to get himself in trouble.

How he was going to get them in trouble.

Bitterness stole upon him. That was all that mattered to them, their owns security, first and foremost... As if he needed confirmation, after the way he had had to kidnap Oriana to save her from everyone else...

"And are you any better?"

He turned around, not surprised at all to find Dave behind him.

"No, you are right. I am no better... You want to know something? It didn't start with these.." he tapped his fangs "Sure, I was a good man, but only when it cost me nothing. When put to the test..."

"It was Jeremiah" he continued "I was his friend. But only as that friendship did not make serious demands on me. I chose not to see the old friend. I chose just to see the successful rival. I did not have to let my wounded pride and social convention lead me to his death..."

"You seem now to be going to the other extreme..."

"No. I finally figured it out. I believed in kindness. Until my lieutenant asked me to get information out of a captive Indian woman. I believed in the brotherhood of man. And that the slave trade was a business like any other... Do you know what was behind my marriage to Josette?"

"Something to do with the slave trade?"

"Yes." Barnabas said ferociously "Andre de Pres believed that slavery would be reestablished now that Robespierre had been disposed of. It was an economic imperative, as he explained to my father. And since the Collins were notorious shippers in the Triple Passage, he wanted to secure a supply of dark ivory. His daughter's hand was part of the deal..."

"Did you make that deal?"

"I did not protest it. So what does that make me?"

"No better and no worse than anybody else at that time."

Barnabas shook his head ferociously "You wouldn't have done it."

"I never had to face up a world where slavery was legal. I was lucky that way."

"Then there was Priscilla.. I could be patient and understanding. But not with her. She was just a kid, trying desperately to please, trying desperately to have me like her."

"Priscilla?"

"My first wife. My father arranged the match, in spite of my objections. I made her pay for it. I neglected her. She was alone with my mother, who always took mi side, even when I was wrong, with Abigail who could tear you inside with just a few words, with Laura... Alone, frightened, friendless... she had a difficult pregnancy. A little affection, a little reassurance that she was wanted would have been enough for her wanting to live. But I didn't give them to her. So she died, with no one to truly mourn her." he shook his head. "I did kill her. And for her there is no excuse."

"Except that you were a dumb kid."

"No. I was a stinker. But I could afford not to be, most of the time. Then one day I was caught in a situation I could no escape and had to learn a few unpleasant truths about myself. And now I am judging everybody else... They too think they are good, and they do try, if it does not cost them much, and they too lie to themselves a lot."

The slightly sad, slightly mocking smile did not leave Dave's face. "This business is tearing you apart. Having to go back to old ways."

"It does. But I have to go through with it. At least this time something good is coming out of it... and I can't abandon the..."

"Even if it tears you inside, and worse."

"Don't tell me that you are trying to warn me off."

"It wouldn't do much good. You are just excessively stubborn. But I don't like self-flagellation. If you have to do it, do it, but stop hurting yourself needlessly."

"You should know better than to tell me that. Too many memories. And they do hurt. I never knew they would hurt so much."

"Let go of them. It helps no one for you to keep going over them. Accept the past as that, past."

"I can't" Barnabas was silent for a few minutes, then spoke again.

"I have been thinking about Angelique, too." he said "I never tried to understand her. But I should. Used and abused by everybody. Denied the right to complain. Supposed not to have feelings. Just a servant girl. She had to serve ladies, women like her, but accorded respect. Waiting on them hand and foot as if they were a different species... she must have hated Josette. All the things that Josette was too well bred, too refined to undergo, were Angelique's lot. I would only touch Josette's hands with my lips. But I was tearing the clothes off Angelique every night, demanding it as my due."

"So she turned to Magic."

"Yes. It gave her the power to strike back at those who humiliated and debased her. It offered her a way, something better than what she knew. Her revenge was cruel. But she had been too warped by mistreatment go be capable of generosity or forgiveness."

"As you were warped by being chained in that coffin for all those years."

"As I was. Still it doesn't excuse any of it. What I did to Maggie, to Willie" his voice dropped "to you and Julia."

"You'd make it up to me, if you could"

"But I can't I can't even help Julia. I have to look at her and know what I did to her." he shrugged "but at least I can help the girls at the shopping center, and I am going to do it, no matter what the cost."

* * *

Sabrina had barely time to finish her breakfast when she was told that someone wanted to see her.

Hoping it was Chris, she went to the hotel lobby, only to meet Harry Redwolf.

"What do you want?"

"To talk about our common problem."

"Common problem?"

"Barnabas Collins.:

Sabrina glanced around. "Not here. Let's go out for a stroll."

They went into the woods, with Sabrina turning on her portable radio, just in case.

"I am not sure what is it that you have in mind" Sabrina said.

"Please, Mrs. Jennings. Don't waste time and money beating around the bush. Barnabas is the one responsible for those attacks, all right. It is part of a plan to push for safe transportation... But we better do something quick before he drags us down with him."

"Do you have proof that it is him?"

"He has all but shouted it out. "

He told her the whole story, and she nodded.

"Yes. he's the one doing it " Sabrina admitted "it is a good way to put pressure, I admit."

"A good way that we cannot afford."

"Do you have any idea of how to make him see reason?"

"I tried talking him out of it. Useless."

"So I might save my breath with him. I am not one of his favorite people, anyway."

"We could prevent him from leaving his coffin. I heard it can be done."

"It wouldn't work. We'd have to keep constant watch over him, to make sure no one came to release him. He can get plenty of people. He is in mental contact with anybody he's fed on, and in a pinch he can command them to release him."

"But I understand that it was done not too long ago by Ms. Graham."

"Because he cooperated. he understood that he needed a rest cure after breaking his collarbone. He would not cooperate with us."

"So what are we left with?" Redwolf asked.

He knew what they were left with, but he'd rather not speak of it.

"How good are you with a bow and arrow?"

"What for?"

"Lie in wait for him, at the shopping center. Shoot the arrow into his heart."

"Mrs. Jennings!: Redwolf said, shocked.

"I will not do any killings. So, if you want him dead, you will have to do it yourself. I have no intention of becoming a scapegoat."

"You'd rather I did the dirty work without telling you about it?"

'"I'd rather you didn't try to get me to do YOUR dirty work."

"All right." Redwolf shrugged "So killing is out unless we can find ourselves a scapegoat. What else can we do?"

"I have no idea. But I will think of something."

* * *

Louella felt nervous about approaching Barnabas. He had been having troubles of his own lately. Those newspaper stories...

And to ask him point blank to take Vicky back...

She wondered about the newspaper stories. It couldn't be him. Neither she. nor Willie would believe it was him...

Vicky had to go. Whether she meant it or not, she was turning Willie into a nervous wreck.

"You come to yell at him?" Phillip asked her. "it does no good. Once he gets an idea in his head, nothing will dislodge it."

"Why should I yell at him?"

"You mean that you approve?" Phillip sounded shocked "Oriana does, but that's because she smells a good story in it. I wish he would listen to reason, just for once. He doesn't know what he's doing to himself. He doesn't' understand how he can get killed."

"There, there" Barnabas said behind them "there you are, worrying again. I thought that I was supposed to be the Jewish Mother around here."

"Barnabas" emotion made Phillip's voice waver "I just can't bear to see this happening to you. You have done so much for me and I should be able to do more than just cross my arms and see what happens next."

"I know." Barnabas squeezed Phillip's arm "I know that you care for me and I appreciate it. But I have to do it."

Phillip turned his face away as he felt the tears coming into his eyes.

"Phillip, don't worry about me, please."

He then turned to Louella "Are you going to say the same thing that everybody else is saying?" he asked, a bit harshly.

"Why? What's happening?"

"Surely you must read the newspapers. All those girls being attacked."

"I am sure you didn't do it."

Barnabas laughed softly "but I did" he paused "I think it is better that I start at the beginning."

He told her all of it. She just listened to him, saying nothing until he was done.

"Well, are you going to yell a me, too?"

"I...I don't know." she admitted "I know how dangerous it is for you. I do not like the idea of your exposing yourself to danger. But..."

"But?"

"I worked at the shopping center myself. Before I married Willie. And I also had to hitchhike home. I was lucky

Barnabas smiled "So you don't want me to stop."

"I wish I had done something about it myself, instead of letting you do it."

"Well, maybe you can. You can try giving Barb a hand."

"I think I will."

Barnabas took her hand and kissed it. "Willie is a very lucky man."

Willie's name made Louella remember why she had come here. "At this moment he does not believe it." she said.

"He doesn't?"

"That girl... Victoria Winters. She's a nice kid and helps me around the house and everything. But I don't want her around Willie."

"Surely you are not jealous of her." Barnabas said with surprise.

"I am not. It is that she is turning Willie into a nervous wreck."

"How so?"

"You know how insecure Willie is. When you think of what he has made of himself you'd say he has a right to be proud."

"He has every right to."

"Well, he isn't. He can't forget that he never finished high school and that he went to jail. He can't forget they way he was when you met him."

"I was in much worse shape than him." Barnabas mused "Does that worry him so much?"

"He has this feeling that he's going to be... how you put it... found out. You should see the way he acts when he catches himself mispronouncing a word.:"

"And what does Vicky have to do with it?"

"Don't you see? Louella almost screamed. "She talks all the time about the way things used to be. And makes him talk about it. About a certain costume party. About the way he acted sneaky and stuttered. And then she ask him about somebody called McDuffy, no.. McGregor..."

"McGuire" Barnabas said quickly "Jason McGuire."

"That's it. That's the name."

Barnabas cursed himself inwardly. He should have figured that this would happen. Between Willie's insecurities and Vicky's own compulsions, this was bound to happen.

...Should have figured out. Somehow that was the story of his life.

"All right, I'll talk with Vicky. Maybe she should move back with me."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was the way she expected it to be. Candles in candlesticks. Antique furniture. Josette's portrait...

Vicky rested her hand on the frame of the portrait. She remembered the first time she had seen it on the wall.

And Josette's dress, the one she had worn for the costume party, where was it?

"Think, Vicky, think. Where are clothes usually kept in this house?"

At least she had plenty of time. Both Phillip and Oriana were out in the garden keeping watch there. And Willie was not likely to miss the key to the back entrance. She could now explore the house, find the dress, and get ready for when _he_ woke up.

Josette's dress was more faded than she remembered it to be and in some places the seams had given. But it was still the same swirl of lace, the same costly material that had dazzled her the first times she had seen it.

She would have never been able, on her salary, to buy anything as beautiful as this.

There were tiny pearls sewn into the bodice. Small and delicate. They told a tale of romance, wealth, Old World charm...

And it was hers, now. Quickly she undressed, letting her clothes drop on the floor. She wouldn't need these anymore. She looked with distaste at the unsightly heap they made and kicked them out of the way.

She studied her naked boy in the mirror. Still young and firm. Maybe the breasts were a bit small... But Josette did not have them much larger...

"I can be Josette if I will it. I can be her for him. Then this house would be truly mine."

Jasmine scent. Yes, that was the one. She rubbed in on her breasts and shoulders. Not too much. She had remembered that she was an eighteenth century lady.

No makeup, either. Maybe a little power erase the traces of perspiration from her face.

Lacing the corset was more painful than she anticipated, yet she endured it. It was worth it. She was ready to put on the dress when she remembered she hadn't set the hair. In those days you did the hair first, since it was a lengthy, messy, operation that could stain the beautiful dresses.

She had the time for it, but not the skill, so she chose the simples arrangement that she could find. There would be time for ringlets later.

Finally she put the dress on. It hung from her shoulders, molded itself seductively around the breasts and gathered at the waist.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Flawless.

She descended the stairs silently. Dusk would fall soon.

Where was him? She knew that he would get up soon, but she wanted to be the first thing he set his eyes on tonight.

But she didn't know where he was. She could only wait for him.

Just below the portrait.

Fifteen minutes later a door creaked. She turned and saw Barnabas come in, saw the surprise in his face...

...In front of him was Vicky, dressed like Josette, under Josette's portrait.

"Vicky!" Barnabas cried "what are you doing?"

"It is all right. I understand." she smiled calmly at him.

"What are you doing in that dress?"

"I know this is the way you want me."

"Vicky..." something warned to be careful of what he said "I do not understand."

"Maggie did not want to, but I do." she extended her hands "I want you."

Barnabas took a step away from her "Maggie was right."

"No, she wasn't"

Barnabas stared at her. "What year is this, Vicky?" he asked gently.

"1968"

"It is 1980"

"1795? 1796?"

"1980"

"No!" Vicky shouted "It isn't I know it isn't!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"The papers... the stories about girls being attacked."

Barnabas sighed "That does not prove a thing." he said.

"This is 1968!" Vicky said fiercely.

He looked at her. She wanted it so much for it to be 1968. She knew it wasn't, but she thought that if she lied about it, she could make it so.

And she needed him to lie to her.

"Why do you want this to be 1968?"

"I don't want to! It is 1968!"

"Why is it so important to you?"

"Because...because... that is the truth."

Why couldn't he lie to her and make her happy? What would a few lies cost him?

Yes, only a few lies. Like the ones he had demanded of Maggie.

He too had known that those were lies. He too had thought that wishful thinking could turn lies into truth.

"No, Vicky, this isn't 1968 anymore."

He could understand her need. All her familiar world was gone. All her friends were either gone or so changed that she didn't recognize them. Nothing was the way she remembered it.

Nothing but him. He was the only anchor she could find. He could, if he wanted, bring back that time for her.

Just as Maggie, if she wanted, could have brought back his own time for him.

"It can't be the way you want it, Vicky."

"It will come to you. We will go together alone, the two of us. London, maybe?"

He did not dare move. He knew that something had to be done, but did not know what.

She moved towards him. "Please, say that you want me, say that things will be back the way they used to be."

The way they were...

"Did you like the way things used to be?"

"Yes."

"There was much pain and suffering. You saw enough of that."

"I don't care." she shook her head.

Should he try it? It had dangers. But to go on this way was dangerous, too.

"All right" he extended his arms. "Come... Josette."

Vicky raced to his arms, felling his embrace tighten around her, feeling his lips caress her face and stop at her mouth. They kissed passionately.

He still wanted her, in a way. After all those years, he still desired her.

Then he remembered that embrace they had shared when lost in the maze of her mind...

For Vicky, reality and fantasy were one. And she could drag him in...

He accepted what had to be done. Quickly, before she realized what she was doing, he caught he wrists and pinioned them behind her.

"Liar!" he shouted., pushing her away with his free hand.

She pivoted on her captive wrists and nearly fell on her face, being held up only by the hand that held her wrists.

"Barnabas... what are you doing?"

"You are a liar! You are not Josette! You can never be Josette! You are nothing but tramp and a thief! You just came to steak her jewels, didn't you?"

"No!" Vicky twisted in his grasp. What was happening? Why was he acting like this?

He tore off the necklace she was wearing, roughly. He was grateful that she hadn't put on earrings. He did not wish to hurt her.

"You thought that you could fool me?" he made her turn around and snarled at her. "You thought that you could get away with it?" he pulled at her hair, yanking her head upward.

...That angry face,,, those fangs... No, that was not the way she imagined it...no, it was not like that..

"Slut!" he released her hair, but kept her wrists tightly in his hand. It was awkward to hold her this way, but he had to make sure she didn't fall and hurt herself.

"Please, let me go."

"Too late for that." he pulled up his lips, ostentatiously, once more "I have you now. And I will kill you, my little thief. I will bury you where no one will find your body."

"No! Let me go!"

There was a key turning on the door. Barnabas stopped for a second to listen to it. So did Vicky.

"Help!" she screamed "Help!"

His hand closed around her throat, cutting off the air. Quickly he released her wrists and brought his other hand so that he could safely press her carotids and thus render her unconscious.

"What are you doing? Phillip asked from the door.

"I usually do not believe in shock treatment," Barnabas said shaking his head "but in this case I made an exception."

"Is she hurt?"

"Apart from the scare and some minor bruises, no. As you see, she's breathing normally."

"What is that dress she is wearing?"

"One of Josette's" he frowned "we have to get it off her. Well. I'll take care of it. You go make some coffee."

Phillip made a face. "How come every time something happens you send me to make coffee?"

"Would you rather I made it?"

"No." Phillip said emphatically "All right. Coffee's coming."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Barnabas watched Vicky as she laid on the bed. She was dressed in Oriana's robe, which had been quicker than trying to firnd her original clothes. He hoped Vicky would forgive him for undressing her, but he could not bear to look at her in that dress.

She opened her eyes and saw him sitting by her side.

"It is all right, Vicky" he said reassuringly "you are not hurt."

"You..." she said accusingly.

"I am sorry I had to treat you that way" he sighed :"but I had to show how it really was in 1967 and 68."

"You hurt me." she complained.

"Not much. Then worst was your wrists, and they are barely marked." he sighed again. "Maggie wasn't so lucky. It was like that for her, every day. And worse. Not for nothing she went mad."

"But she recovered."

"Not thanks to me." No, Vicky, you didn't really know me then."

"But you loved me."

"In a twisted way I did. But it wouldn't have any ended any better than it did for Maggie. How long would it have taken you to realize that it wasn't truly you I loved but my own fantasies of you? And by the time you found out, you could not go back, because I would have changed you, and you would have to cling to me."

Vicky was silent for some seconds. "Yet, I wanted it so much" she finally said.

"I know you did. And I know why. It is frightening, wasn't it? To find yourself lost, to find that no one has waited for you, that you are a stranger. Elizabeth away, David grown up, so many things changed...

"I wanted.. I wanted things to be the way they were, just for once."

"I understand." he took her hand. "I understand it so well. I want to help you Vicky. If I could bring Peter or Burke back to you I would. But I wouldn't bring back 1968, even if I could. Not even for you."

"Why?"

"Because it cost us too much to get out of it. I wouldn't want to go through all that again. I worked very hard to put it behind me. And so did Willie. I saw him work and strain himself to get where he is. I saw how he looked when he told me he was getting his own shop. I threw a party for him. For the first time in his life he was somebody. Do you know what that meant for him? And then you came back and asked him to go back to 1968 with you. As if all that effort he put was nothing, As if he had wasted all that work and dedication. You have no right to ask that of him nor anyone else.

Vicky nodded "It is strange to see him as he is now."

"It is all strange, Vicky."

"But you haven't changed. You still look the same."

"I might not look it, but I have changed. I am wiser, for lack of a better word. We have all changed, some for better and some for worse. I know how cruel this is for you. It isn't fair to ask you to accommodate yourself to it the best you can. But you'll just have to. "he smiled ruefully "there is no other choice.. And the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you."

Vicky nodded again. "I guess I just made a fool of myself."

"No worse than me." he tapped he jaw playfully "keep your chin up. You are going to make it."

The door opened and Phillip came in carrying a mug of coffee. "Do you want this?" he asked.

"Is it coffee?"

"Yes. And don't worry. I made it, not him. The coffee he makes can be described as cruel and unusual punishment."

"You exaggerate."

"When he was working at that office, they had to get a court injunction to keep him away from the coffeepot."

"It wasn't a court injunction. They just sent me a memo.

Vicky stared at Phillip. "You were in a bottle, too. weren't you?"

"Yes. I was. I managed to escape. Then I was back here."

"Was it hard? Adjusting, I mean?"

"It was a shock. I was a Nixon Republican, and when I came back everybody was calling him a crook. Everybody but Roger. I didn't know that Roger was cracked, you see."

"Phillip!" Barnabas reproved him.

"Hell, he nearly got me killed. And then there was Megan. And I hated Barnabas' gusts too. Yes, I did have a hard time of it."

"But you made it."

"I had help."

* * *

George studied Sabrina glacially

"What makes you think I will help you get rid of Barnabas? I don't want you nor anyone else to hurt him."

"I understand that you want to protect him. But there is only way to do it. And it isn't running me out of town. Unless you can run out a lot of other people too."

George knew that she was right. Still, he cringed at the idea of helping her.

"I will not hurt him. I will only send him away."

"Where? And how could you convince him to go?"

"As to how, at gunpoint, if needed. As to where, Parallel Time. I talked with Quentin and he not only assures me that it is still working, but he has a schedule of when it changes. He says that it changes mostly at daytime, but he knows times at night. There will be one in a couple of days... Come on, sheriff, this is the best solution. He has been there. He has left friends there. They will keep him busy for a while. And I will warn him not to come back too soon... "

In spite of himself George knew that she was right. It probably was the only way, even if meant collaborating with Maggie's hatchetwoman.

"Well, sheriff, yes or no?"

George got up "I will try to talk to him again. Then I'll give you my answer."

* * *

"Why do you keep at it?" George asked Barnabas, pleadingly.

"Do what?"

"You know what I mean. The attacks o the girls in the shopping center. I got requests from the next town for information on the 1967, 1968,and 1970 attacks. They also got curious about Maggie's kidnapping. They may even try to pin that girl's murder on you."

"You know that I didn't kill her. And if there had been proper transportation, that would not have happened."

"I know. I understand what you are trying to do."

"So why shout at me? Get angry at the ones who stop the buses so early."

"I shouted at them. Look you area right. in what you are doing But not this way. For one thing, Sabrina Jennings is here, and"... he caught himself before he said he had been approached by her.. "you know what she is capable of. Than as long as they are hunting for you. they are not hunting for Donna's killer."

"I know."

"You don't care that he might go free?"

"I do care. But you know as well as me that the moment you put the handcuffs on him, everything will go back to the way it was, and the girls will go back to hitchhiking until the next creep comes along."

'"But what's wrong with the legal route? I am putting pressure myself? Why do you have to play Russian roulette?"

"I found out how long the legal route takes. Frank told me about it."

"And you don't care what happens to you?"

"I worry." Barnabas was thoughtful "and not only because of what anybody can do to me for it. It is hurting me inside too. But I have to do it."

"But why go on with this madness? To give Oriana a story?"

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Doesn't it? Apart from you ambitious journalist friend, who else can you find who supports you in this?"

Barnabas gulped "Dave does."

"Dave..? You mean?

"He's shown himself to me, several times... we talked. And, I don't know how to explain it, but I found out that I can talk to him. And he supports me in this."

"Of course, he does!"

"He's not out for revenge."

"No, he's not." George grumbled "I wish I could say it was. But it is just the kind of dumb stunt that'd appeal to him. There is nothing like a grandstand player advising another."

"You are wrong..."

"Let me tell you about him. He had this compulsion to tell a firing squad that he'd rather not be blindfolded. And you have inherited it,. Somehow I can't help falling in love with that kind of nut."

"What do you mean, falling in love?"

George sighed. It had come out. He might as well tell the rest of it.

"Dave was my lover. My first lover. You see, he was gay and so am I. And to top it, I fell in love with you."

Barnabas could not think of what to say.

"You never suspected. I would have never told you of it. I know that you... you don't swing both ways. And I am too proud to demand anything of you because you owe me a lover. All right, don't say anything. You don't have to. Just remember that I may be asked to hunt you down, if you don't stop." there were tears in his eyes. "as I never asked you to be my lover, don't you ask me to be your executioner."

* * *

Vicky was polishing the silver candlesticks the next morning.

"You don't have to do that. I cleaned them a week ago."

"I see who well you did it." she shrugged "Men!"

"You are not trying to get my job, I hope."

"No, I am not. But I figured that if I keep busy my imagination will leave me alone for a while."

"I know how it is" Phillip agreed. "I know what happened when my imagination got loose in the hospital and the result was that I nearly got shot by Roger."

"Yes. That's why I decided to do something around the place."

"You could go out with Oriana."

"No, I don't like her."

"Jealous?" Phillip sounded amused.

"No. But she's the one who's pushing him in this. And he's in danger because of it."

"I know" Phillip said grimly. He opened his coat to show he was wearing a gun "But they'll get him over my dead body."

* * *

"You win." George said to Sabrina "I will help you. But he will not be harmed in any way."

'He won't be."

"Well,, what do you want from me?"

"You could have Vicky, Oriana and Phillip picked up on any kind of charges, and put behind bars, so they don't interfere. Specially Phillip. I have seen him a couple of times, I am sure that he carries a gun."

"All right, I will handle it. With one condition."

"Which is?"

"I will come along with you to make sure you deliver Barnabas in one piece to Parallel Time."

"You don't trust me?"

"I know what you did to Kira."

"And aren't you afraid that I might do the same to you?"

"You are too smart to kill a cop."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"You area looking better today" Barnabas to Vicky, from the door of her room.

"Thank you." She continued to brush her hair. "I feel that my mind has been cleared out of a lot of garbage."

"There is still some." Barnabas sighed "but you'll be able to handle it."

"Why don't you come in? I am properly dressed. And after all you did undress me when you took off Josette's gown from me."

"You understand why I had to take it off."

"Too many bad memories."

"That, and the fact that I did not want you to see it when you woke up."

"Come, sit down. After all, this is your house."

Barnabas did so. "I understand that you and Phillip are in good terms, now."

"Yes. he even suggested that I take a job as a waitress as the place where he plays his sax. It isn't much, but it is a start."

"That's good" Barnabas agreed "Just remember, don't push yourself."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Take it easy. You have made much progress, but still you have a lot to adjust to. There will be times when it will seem too much, when it won't seem worth it. And there will be times when you'll be tempted to put on that dress again.

"Never" Vicky said emphatically.

"It will happen. I got discouraged many times myself. And so will you. Just remember that it is normal, and that it isn't the end of the world if you backslide once in a while. Take it easy. Take your time. Eventually you'll adjust."

Vicky continued brushing her hair. "Are you... going to the shopping center tonight?"

"Why, are you going to lecture to me on that, too?"

"I wonder if it would do any good if I did."

"It is something that I have to do. And you know why."

Vicky nodded "I would want you to stay today... if you need it, I could... I mean, I am here, and willing, and..."

He looked at her quizzically "What year is this?" he asked.

"1980"

"Good. As long as you remember what year this is, and that I am not madly in love with you. I don't see any harm in it."

He moved closer to her and she closed her eyes, throwing her head back, dramatically.

"Let's not make a Federal Case out of it." he laughed.

"I am sorry." she opened her eyes.

"It is all right." he patted her on the cheek "just take it easy."

He held her in his arms, caressing he shoulders and the back of her neck until she began to relax.

"We are just friends, aren't we?" she said.

"I don't like the way it sounds. 'Just friends' As if friendship was some kind of second class relationship. And it isn't. Friendship is too wonderful for that."

His lips were now pressing against her throat, and his hands kept the reassuring pressure on her shoulders. It had never occurred to her how much could be transmitted by hands. His spoke of gentleness and concern... she was aware of the irritation at her throat, of the greedy movements of his tongue, but that was not what occupied her attention. Just his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

"There" he pulled back. "it is done. As you see, nothing to write home about."

When Barnabas was done, Phillip came into the room.

"Tonight he won't go to the shopping center." She said to him, her hand on her throat.

"Good. At least he's got one more day. We got one more day."

"We cannot do this again tomorrow."

"I talked with George earlier. He also believes that the problem is Oriana. If we remove her, Barnabas might listen to reason."

"So what do we do?"

"He suggested framing her for shoplifting. If you are willing to help."

"What do I have to do?

* * *

George inspected his gun once more.

He had a bad taste in his mouth. It was best for everybody, Barnabas included, he tried to tell himself. But that didn't make it right.

Yet Sabrina had a point. Barnabas was openly courting disaster and each day it became more and more likely that somebody would protect his (or her) secrets/job/position by removing permanently.

Yet there should be a better way to protect him than to send you over Parallel Time.

And then, Parallel Time was not precisely Siberia. He had managed nicely there once. He could do it again.

He looked at the plastic bags where he had put the soil. At least he could give that to Barnabas so that he didn't have to start looking for it when he got there.

But that was all he could do.

"That's a nice mess, isn't it?" he said bitterly aloud.

"Yes, quite a mess." Dave agreed.

"Well, in the end you managed to get even with him."

Dave shook his head "You know better than that, Georgie."

"You could have stopped him, talked him out of it."

"No one could."

"Still..."

"He new what he was risking. He wanted something like this to happen to him. In a way, you are right, he may be doing it because of me."

"And you let him."

"You were right about something else. We are very much alike. I was as much a predator as he is. A sexual predator. You know how I went about it. And, like him, I found a way of not only not hurting my victims too much, but also of helping them when I could. I don't know how much he is conscious of it, but he is living out my life himself. To the bitter end. That's why he wants to get deep-sixed as I was."

"But that's... that's... no one has the right to ask that of anyone..."

"I didn't ask for it. He insisted. Do your remember that hideous purple sweater that I had?"

"Hideous was the word for it. But what has it to do with this?"

"It was a gift of a patient. I didn't charge her since she couldn't afford it. But she didn't want charity, either. So she knitted it and gave it to me. There was no way I could make her understand that there was no need. She was too proud not to give me something for my trouble. I could have done without that monstrosity, but she touched me. Her pride was not to be despised, even if her knittings were. You could say that I admired he for it. And now Barnabas is presenting me with another purple sweater, and I can't despise his pride, even if I wish he had better judgment."

"You always were a sententious bastard." George muttered.

"I know, Georgie, I know."

* * *

Vicky and Phillip were still talking late in the night.

"I recognized you from the first." she said "I knew that you had been in a bottle. But I didn't want to speak of it."

"It is not the kind of thing you want to talk about. Myself, I wiped the whole thing out of my mind and refused to remember any of it. We would all have been spared a lot of trouble if I had".

"I still dream about it."

"You still will, for a time. Eventually they will go away."

"When?"

"It does not good to be impatient about it. Just be thankful that you can wake up and find yourself here. As I said, try to keep as busy as possible. You should try applying for that waitress job I told you about. I know it is not the same as my playing the sax..."

"Maybe I will."

"It is better than you trying to take my job here away from me."

"Does this job mean so much to you?"

"In a way. At first I took it because I had nowhere else to go. Now I just can't desert him. Specially in the trouble he's in."

Both their faces became grave. "Do you think that what we are doing will help?"

"I hope it does. I don't want to think what would happen if it doesn't work... there are so many people going after him. The Chamber of Commerce, Davenport, the people who work at the Davenport center, Frank Torrance, the Indian tribe, Maggie Evans and Sabrina Jennings... the list is just too large." he sighed "At least we can trust George Brant."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Oriana wondered about Vicky. She certainly didn't like her. No more than Phillip did. Yet she now insisted to come shopping with her. She was even acting friendly towards her...

Of course, it had to do with getting a ride to town. And then you had to remember that Vicky had been released from Wyncliffe not too long ago. Evidently too soon...

Vicky slipped the lace in her pocket, nodding to the man that the sheriff had put in the store. Now only she had to get to Oriana's handbag, put there the lace, and walk away.

It took time, as Oriana kept the handbag close to her. Finally the chance came. Oriana took a blouse and examined it.

"I think it would look good on you" Vicky said.

"I am not sure."

"Why not try it on?"

"I don't know if I like it so much" Oriana studied it in the mirror, holding it against her body. As she did this, she stopped paying attention to her handbag.

Quickly Vicky slipped the lace into the handbag and stepped back, nodding to the man.

Oriana turned to look at another blouse, but before she could move two steps there was a tap on her shoulder.

"Would you mind coming with us, miss?"

Vicky could not hide her smile. She was going to get what was coming to her, for what she was doing to Barnabas.

Then they tapped her shoulder too.

"Will you come with us, too?"

"Didn't the sheriff tell you that I leave?"

"The sheriff said to bring in both of you."

"Why?" she asked.

"Please, don't make trouble."

Then she understood. George Brant had betrayed them. He had gotten her and Oriana out of the house and now he would go for Phillip, pretending to be a friend...

She screamed and tried to run. It took three of them to subdue her, and she was carried to the car kicking and screaming.

Oriana looked at her with grim amusement. "They double-crossed you, didn't they? Serves you right for trusting them."

"It is your fault!" Vicky shouted "You pushed Barnabas to this! Now they are going to kill him because of you!"

The deputies looked at each other. "Better put them in separate cells. We don't want a murder."

* * *

Something was wrong. Phillip could not understand where the feeling came from. Maybe it hadn't worked. Maybe Oriana had seen through Vicky.

Then he saw the squad car approach, and George get out of it.

"How did it go?"

"We just booked Oriana. She insists she's being framed, but it won't do any good."

"Where's Vicky?"

"She's a witness, so they are taking her statement. We are considering telling Barnabas that we'll drop all charges against Oriana if he stops going to the shopping center."

"That might work."

"Do you want to come to the station?"

Phillip shook his head. "I can't and you know why."

"You are keeping guard, I see. Vicky told me that you have a gun on you."

"I feel I need it."

"Do you know how to handle it? I've seen too many people get hurt because they didn't"

"I know."

"I'd feel safer if you took it off."

"I can't"

"Oh, well. In that case, I will stay here until he gets up. It is better if you are not alone here. Two is more protection that one, specially if one of us has a badge. Those who'd think nothing of shooting at you will balk at shooting me."

"You are right."

"I would like some coffee, by the way."

Phillip smiled. "As long as it isn't Barnabas who makes it?"

"Right!"

Phillip turned around to go to the kitchen, and as he did, George jumped him from behind.

"What?" he said with surprise. In a few seconds he was on the floor, one arm twisted behind him, the other pinned under his body, with the sheriff's knee holding the gun against the floor s as it hung from his shoulder holster.

Then his hands were cuffed behind his back, he was made to stand and saw the sheriff take the gun away.

"I am sorry Phillip. It has to be this way."

"You! You are one of them!"

"It seems so. But I promise that I won't let them hurt Barnabas."

Phillip had begun kicking and trying to bite, so George secured him to a chair and called for a deputy to come pick him up.

The next few minutes until the deputy came were very painful as Phillip kept insulting him and he could not be completely sure that he could protect Barnabas. He endured the insults. He did not even try to gag Phillip. He had earned the right to say those things to him.

Finally the deputy came and took Phillip away. "We put Miss Falchi in a separate cell" he said, before leaving.

"That's smart thinking." George said "but I think that you can put him with Miss Winters."

He went back to the house. He should now call Sabrina and tell her that the coast was clear. But not yet. He had to see Barnabas first.

He bent over the unconscious face "I can't do anything else" he said softly "please try to understand."

* * *

There was something chilling about Sabrina Jennings, so remorselessly efficient, so unflappable. Roxanne Drew had said it "Sabrina Jennings isn't afraid of anything and that makes her so scary."

Certainly she wasn't afraid of what she was doing to Barnabas.

"I thought first of taking his coffin and all, but that would make it difficult to smuggle him in Collinwood."

"So you'll do your way. What about Roger?"

"Redwolf's people are holding him."

"He's not hurt, I hope."

"Only in his pride." she took out her supplies. Strong adhesive tape, a length of strong rope, and a couple of crosses. She took the rope and used it to tie Barnabas' wrists together."

"He's going to break it." George said.

"Not if I hang a cross from it. I thought of hanging one from his neck but that would paralyze him. I want him able to walk."

"Use this" he gave her his cuffs "It will be more comfortable for him than your rope."

George looked with distaste how she cuffed Barnabas's wrists, and then hung the cross from the handcuffs. He hated it, but he had to agree. Barnabas was not likely to go willingly, but this way he would have no choice.

"Must they come with us?" he indicated the three men that Redwolf had lent Sabrina.

"I am taking no chances. He will be less likely to try to bold if he knows that there are four guns with silver bullets aimed at his heart..

She tore a length of tape and stuck it over Barnabas's mouth.

"There is no need for that. Are you afraid that he'll cry for help?"

"You know what kind of trouble he can make with his mouth. I want to make sure that he does not try to control one of us."

Having decided that Barnabas could only come along meekly, she pulled back and lit a cigarette.

"Put that out!" George growled.

"What? It bothers you?:

"It bothers him. It is bad enough that he's wake up like this. He shouldn't be subject to cigarette smoke too."

"Why do you think it will make much of a difference?"

"I want to make him as comfortable as possible. But I don't think that you could understand that."

Sabrina shrugged "All right."

George hated her. and if you were to judge by George's reaction, Chris would not like her much, either, after this was known.

...And come to think of it, why was Chris so important anyway?

* * *

Things were not as they were supposed to be. That was his first thought as he returned to consciousness.

He was weak, ghastly weak. And there was this something forcing his mouth closed..

He tried to lift his hands but he could not make them obey him. He tried to speak, but he could not even part his lips.

Then he opened his eyes and saw Sabrina.

"We have silver bullets in our guns, so don't try anything. I'd rather not blindfold you, but if you try hypnotism, I will.

He did not think he could, anyway. He felt too weak for it. He barely could move his fingers.

"I am sorry" George helped him to get out of the coffin "This was the best deal I could get for you. You will not be hurt."

Barnabas shook his head, trying to clear it. What did they want? What were they doing to him?"

"We are sending you into Parallel Time." George explained "You have friends there. There is the Roxanne Drew of that place. She is still waiting for you."

Barnabas grunted again, and there was some anger in his eyes.

"Try to understand."

"Are you coming along willingly or do we have to carry you? We can just tie your ankles and take as a package."

Barnabas turned his face to her, and had to endure the humiliation of having his scathing answer turned to meaningless sounds by the gag.

He looked at George again, accusingly.

"It is not as if we were killing you." George insisted.

He took a few steps, surprised to find that his legs still obeyed him. Not too well, but they did.

"Come, lean on me." George offered.

He turned away.

"Don't be proud, please." George said "you need support."

"And cut the martyr act." Sabrina said. "You know that this is more than you gave Woodard and the others."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Vicky laid her head against the bars, touching the scars that Barnabas had made the night before. They were still there. Did that mean that he was still alive? She wished she knew more about it.

"Can you feel anything from him?" Phillip asked.

"I...I don't know."

"Try to concentrate."

"Yes, try" Oriana said from the next cell.

Vicky and Phillip shot poisoned glances at her, but said nothing.

Vicky sobbed "What will happen if they...they.." she didn't finish. She couldn't

"George said that he would not be harmed" Phillip said dully.

"And you trust him?

* * *

If only he could take the gag off... Barnabas shook his head, but it did not help any. The constriction remained, as did the weakness creeping up from his bound wrists... It was even difficult to think.

"Be patient" George tried to reassure him "you will be all right, you'll see."

The gag must be the worst, George realized. For someone as opinionated as him, having to endure in silence might well be the ultimate humiliation.

"Rest your head on my shoulder if you feel weak" he offered.

Barnabas grunted, looking warily at George. George had betrayed him, hadn't he? Why did act so concerned now?

And then the confession he had made to him a few days before... No, he did not want George to touch him.

Yet the look of pain in George's eyes... he had seen it before. He had found it too terrible before... but where?"

He wished he could think more clearly.

* * *

"He's very weak, confused" Vicky said "and angry too."

"I'd be angry, too, if I was being railroaded by my friends" Phillip said bitterly.

Vicky hit the bars "And we are stuck here where we cannot do a thing to help him!"

Phillip shook his head, angry with himself...he had turned his back on Brant...

"He's being taken out. He's very weak."

"I guess that if they haven't killed him yet, it is a good sign" Phillip said, trying to cheer himself and Vicky..

* * *

"Quentin is supposed to be waiting for us here." Sabrina checked her wristwatch.

"I hope he gets here quick" George muttered "Barnabas can barely stand now."

"Did someone mention me?" Quentin came from behind a bush "Well, well." he looked at Barnabas, smiling cruelly. "It seems that this time it isn't me who got in trouble, eh, cousin?"

Barnabas looked painfully at him. Quentin felt the anger mount in him. All the hours he had spent watching Parallel time, wishing he could go there. And now Barnabas was the one going. It wasn't fair... it wasn't fair.

He slapped Barnabas and made him fall to the ground.

George pulled out his gun "Do that again and I'll shoot your kneecaps off."

"Enough of that." Sabrina said "Get us inside Collinwood."

George helped Barnabas to his feet and led him inside.

A few minutes later, they were inside Collinwood. Barnabas at last was able to sit down on the floor, and he watched how Sabrina, in the changing room was drawing a chalk pattern on the floor. A patter that would hold him captive when he was placed inside it.

It would be fun if their calculations were off, and the room changed with Sabrina still in it. That would make an interesting problem.

The look in George's eye told him that he was thinking the same thing.

George...George had betrayed him... he was doing this to him...

"Stop the martyr act" he heard Sabrina's voice in his mind.

He realized where he had seen George's eyes before. In Julia, Just after he had forced her to betray Dave...

He had no right to be angry at George... He was only being exiled, not murdered in cold blood...

And suppose he did not come back. What would that do to George? He had seen what guilt did to Julia.

"It is ready" Sabrina said "Bring him in."

They made him get up again and move to the center of the pattern, while Sabrina closed the pattern behind him.

"You won't be able to get out of this in this Universe. Better accept it."

Barnabas grunted.

"You can release his hands now." Sabrina said to George. "But be careful how you do it. He can still make trouble."

Before he did that, George hooked the cane from Barnabas' arm and draped the Inverness coat over his shoulders, then gave him the plastic bag.

"It is the earth you need." he said. "so you won't need to look for it when you get here."

Barnabas nodded and waited until George opened the handcuffs and took them away, along with the cross.

"Stand back." Sabrina said. "Get out of the room before it changes."

Reluctantly George stepped back as Barnabas tore the tape from his mouth.

Barnabas opened his mouth and moved it, pleased to find out that it was still working.

"Does Maggie know what you are doing?" he asked Sabrina, accusingly.

"She told me to take care of you, by any means necessary."

"I see."

George was now out of the room with the others. "Is there anything your want?"

He nodded "Tell Phillip that if he needs money, he can pawn anything at the Old House that he thinks will sell. I'll trust him to give me an account when I come back. And as for the shopping center..."

"Don't worry. I'll be at their backs until they get the bus service." he looked mournfully at Barnabas "I wish you had not forced me to do this."

"So do I. I hope that when I come back they won't come to me saying 'I told you so'" he licked his lips "George".

"What?"

"Good luck. And take care of yourself"

George smiled for the first time. "Same to you, Barnabas."

* * *

"He's feeling better now" Vicky said "he's relieved. Still a bit angry."

Phillip said nothing What was happening to Barnabas? what were they doing to him?

Vicky screamed..

"He's... he's gone.."

"They killed him!"

"No, he's not death." Vicky said "just... gone."

* * *

It had been so quick, the change... Suddenly the floor pattern was gone, and a lot of old, discarded furniture had appeared out of nowhere.

Barnabas blinked. Yes, the change was quick. As he remembered it from the last time.

He had to leave the room and go find a place to stay before it got to be dawn again. It was summer and the nights were short.

But before he left, he turned once more to the direction he knew George was watching and waved at him.

"Goodbye, George" he said "don't feel too badly about this."

He knew that George had answered him, even if he couldn't hear the words, then left by the door opposite the one he had just entered.

And came face to face with Buffy Harrington.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, backing away.

He cocked his head "Have you forgotten me already?" he asked, with amusement.

She did remember him. The fear in her eyes betrayed enough of it. And she was about to scream.

"Look into my eyes" he commanded her, catching her by the shoulders.

He held her now. She trembled but could not resist him. He lifted her head and turned it to a side. She closed her eyes, trembling.

"Do you have that bad a memory of me, then?" he asked, hurt.

He knew that he should be gentle with her, but somehow he could not manage it. He was still angry at Sabrina, and some of the anger came out in the biting. He should not bite her like this. It was not her doing that he had been delivered to Parallel Time wrapped like a Christmas package. But he could not stop himself.

He finally let her go. "It is done. I am sorry. I did not mean to be rough. Come, I will need your help."

* * *

"It is done. You can all go now. And no charges have been made against any of you." George said opening the cells and releasing his captives.

"What did you do to him?" Phillip asked angrily.

"Sent him into Parallel Time. You remember about that?"

"Parallel Time?" Vicky asked, incredulous.

"Yes. He told me about that" Phillip admitted grudgingly.

"He's going to be all right. He has friends there from his last stay. He told me to tell you that if you need money hock anything in the Old House, and give him an account when he comes back."

"He will come back?"

"Yes. He came back before, didn't he?"

But that room is kin Collinwood, in Carolyn's property. She could do something for it, or..."

"She won't. I got enough to send Roger to an institution for the rest of his life. And if she does anything to Barnabas I'll use it. So she'll watch her step."

Phillip and Vicky left, but Oriana didn't.

"He will be all right, won't he?"" she asked.

"Not thanks to you." he looked icily at her. "Did you get your story? Because if you did, I'd appreciate your leaving town. And don't worry. There won't ever be a record of your being booked here."

"Sheriff!" Oriana protested.

"You led him on. And because of that I had to" he lifted the handcuffs from his belt and looked at them with distaste. "use these on him. I don't think that I can take looking at you for another day, so get your things and split."

* * *

How much has Parallel Time changed since Barnabas saw it last? Are they people there who remember him? And how do they remember him? Will he find friends still there? And what stories lie in wait for him?

Stay tuned...


End file.
